Against the Pull of Gravity
by Rosybud
Summary: Quil has always been there for Claire. He's her best friend, her protector, and though she believes it's impossible, she wants more. But in a world where legends are real, the path to true love is not easy — even when it's destined. Quil/Claire.
1. Chapter 1: Secrets

**Author's Note: All character's belong to Stephenie Meyer**

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I've always been very good at keeping secrets, especially my own. I like keeping them safe inside where no one will ever find out about them. Because sometimes, some secrets should never be told.

I wish I could follow my own rules.

Because if I'm good at keeping secrets, my best friend Katie is even better at getting them out of me. She has this way of making you trust her with your deepest thoughts, because for all her joking, you know she'll never tell anyone. Which is why, one rainy afternoon, when we were both bored out of our minds, I found myself saying something I had promised I would never say aloud or even write down. Because if it got out, if _he _heard about it, I'd probably have to dig a hole and bury myself alive. It would be that bad.

I took a deep breath.

"I am in love with Quil Ateara," I whispered, my heart throbbing so loudly in my chest it was a miracle Katie couldn't hear it.

She shrieked, her fingers latching tightly onto my elbow. "Oh my God Claire. _Quil_? Does he know?" she demanded.

My heart stopped for a second"No, and you have to promise me that you'll never tell him! You can't tell _anyone._" I begged, grabbing her arm. "I'm serious Katie; I will kill you if you do!" How many times had I heard my friends say this exact same thing and made fun of them for being so dramatic?—well now I finally understood why. The thought of Quil knowing was unbearable.

She shrugged. "Ok, ok. Who would I tell anyway?" I relaxed my grip. "Do you think he knows?"  
_  
He'd better not. _"I don't think so, that would be _so _embarrassing."

"Why—because you're only thirteen and he's…" she frowned." How old is Quil anyway?"

"I don't know, in his twenties maybe? But I don't care if he's a hundred years older than me. He's perfect." A blush spread across my face. It felt so good to confess to Katie. I had been keeping this secret for too long, years it felt like.

"Well, I don't think he's gone past a hundred yet, he's way too cute," she joked.

"He's more than just cute," I sighed.

"He probably already knows you like him," she said mercilessly. "And he's just being nice by letting you hang around him all the time."

I tried to ignore that. "No, I don't think so. He doesn't have to come see me as much as he does, I mean, it's not like he's babysitting me anymore or anything." I trailed. The blush returned.

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

I don't know," I said honestly. I didn't want to let Katie to know how carefully I'd been paying attention over the years trying to answer that question. "I think he used to. Once, a couple of years ago I called him and some woman was laughing in the background." I didn't tell Katie how that thought had made me miserable for weeks. "But I've never met anyone when I go to La Push, not even at one of Aunt Emily's dinners."

"So never anyone serious then. That's weird."

I nodded. "I don't care if he has though."

"Well, you've had a boyfriend before too, so I guess that makes you even."

"Katie! I was seven years old—for two weeks! Todd and I never even kissed."

"Still…" she grinned. "What about Peter? He _likes_ you."

I made a face. "He's ugly!"

"Oh, he's not that bad, you're just prejudiced. Not everyone can look like Quil you know. You're going to have to settle sometime."

"Never. I don't want to have another boyfriend," I vowed, feeling the magnitude of my words, even as I spoke. But I didn't want to stop. "I know he'll never love me back, but I'd rather die alone than be with anyone but him."

Katie rolled her eyes. "Stop being so melodramatic Claire. It's kind of pathetic."

Her words stung. This was _not _one of my friends' stupid crushes that lasted two weeks; Quil was much, much more than that. "It's not, it's the truth. I'll never love anyone else." Beside me, Katie snorted. I glared at her.

"Claire!" my mother called from the kitchen. "Quil's here."

My gaze shot to Katie; I could feel my cheeks burning like they were on fire.

"_Promise_ me you won't say anything," I begged. "Please Katie, _please." _

At that moment, Quil entered the living room, smiling. I bit back a sigh; he looked like he always did—beautiful, and too old for a thirteen year old. His hazel eyes darted back and forth between my mortified face and Katie, who was still giggling unabashedly.

A frown marred his smooth forehead as he sat down on a chair next to me. "What's going on?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," I said quickly, glaring at Katie.

"We were just talking," she added, trying to look innocent.

"About what?"

"_Secrets," _Katie grinned. I shot daggers in her direction, and felt my face turning even redder.

"Katie, shut up—" I hissed. She'd been my best friend since we were babies, and I knew she wouldn't _actually _tell him, but I also knew she liked watching me squirm.

"Were you talking about boys?" he asked, his voice low and conspiratorial.

Katie nodded. "Claire's in love."

A strange look flickered across Quil's face, but it was quickly replaced with his usual lighthearted smile. "Is he cute?" he asked me

I slumped forward in my seat, groaning. No way was I answering that.

"Claire thinks so…" Katie giggled again. "He's not really my type though, too ol—"

"Ok, _goodbye_ Katie." I stood up, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the front door. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

"Oh don't be mad Claire," she grabbed her backpack, and still laughing, stuck her tongue out at me. "You know you love me!" she called back.

_Sometimes I wonder. _

Quil was exactly where I left him; he was smiling too. "You don't have to be embarrassed," he said quietly.

"I'm not," I lied, knowing the blushing was giving me away. "Katie should just keep her mouth shut," I muttered, slinking back onto the couch.

"You never used to have a problem telling me about your crushes…remember what's his name—Todd?"

I remembered vividly and felt hatred wash over me for my stupid seven-year-old self; how pathetic must my love struck ramblings have sounded to Quil? He had been perfect though, offering advice and sympathy. "It's a little different now," I mumbled, wishing desperately for a change of topic.

Quil leaned towards me, "You can tell me anything you know." I nodded miserably.

That was the whole problem; if he hadn't been so perfect and understanding I would still think of him as an older brother—annoying sometimes, but always around when you need him. Now… well, I definitely did _not _think of him as a brother.

"I know." I forced myself to smile.

...

My mom has a funny story about Quil and me; she tells it whenever she's in a sappy mood.

I was four years old and he was over baby-sitting me and my sister one afternoon like usual. We had an old metal jungle gym in the backyard, the kind a fearless kid like me liked to climb all over. Quil had taken his eyes off me for just one second to look at whatever scrape my sister Colleen had gotten when she'd fallen off her bike.

One second was more than enough time for me. When he turned back towards me, I was perched high up on the metal bars. I held my hands out and said, "look at me—I'm flying!"

I still remember the feeling of falling through the air, down, down, down… and then the feel of Quil's arms as he caught me. I never had any doubts that he would catch me when I jumped, even though he really was too far away.

Quil never knew…but the only reason I liked jumping so much was because I knew he'd be there to catch me. And he always is.

So really, it was only a matter of time before I fell for him.

...

I don't remember Quil ever not being in my life, but Colleen says I was two when we met him for the first time. I've made her tell me everything she can remember about that day so often that I can _almost _see it in my head, even if she says I was too young to remember.

It was May, the sun was shining and it was almost warm out. Colleen and I were at Aunt Emily's house, playing in the yard when I saw them coming—Uncle Sam's big friends. Colleen was scared the first time she saw them, but not me; I just giggled and smiled at them and tried to give them my markers. But I had never seen Quil before, not until that sunny afternoon.

Once, I asked Quil if he remembered meeting me. He didn't say anything at first, just got a funny look on his face like he gets sometimes when I ask him something he doesn't want to answer. Finally, he said of course he remembered: I had dirt on my nose and leaves in my hair. I was wearing a little white dress that had practically turned brown and a blue sweater that was covered in grass.

I was kind of surprised he remembered all that.

I've never told anyone this—I know Colleen would think I'm making it up, and Quil would think I'm crazy—but…sometimes when I think very, very hard, I can remember Quil crouching down in front of me. Aunt Emily's voice is in the background and it sounds like she's introducing us, but I'm not paying any attention to her. Just to Quil and his eyes, which are locked on me. He's staring at me like he never wants to look away…and then, very slowly, he reaches forward and picks a leaf out of my hair, making me giggle. Somewhere in the background, someone is crying now and calling for Sam. Quil looks scared and happy and confused all at once, but I don't care anything about that. I catch Quil's hand in my little one and play with his big fingers.

Sometimes it seems soreal, but other times I think it must be a dream, or maybe that I _am _making it up because I'm wishing so much that I could remember that day. Everything is hazy and disjointed like a dream, and Colleen says she doesn't remember anyone crying, but that doesn't really matter because Colleen was only six herself and she's never had a very good memory. But whenever I convince myself it's true, a little voice in my head whispers _what about his age? _

That's the part I can't explain away, because in that memory Quil looks exactly the same as he does right now. And if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that it is impossible not to age in ten years.

Although sometimes Quil seems to be awfully slow about it.

The next day, after I'd forgiven her for her teasing, Katie and I were looking through my mother's old picture albums for a school project. As we thumbed through the photos, I saw that of course, Quil was in almost every photo with me. Even though he lives in La Push, and I live in Neah Bay—the only town on the Makah reservation, he's always around, just like he's been ever since that first day.

Katie was peering at one of the pictures, squinting hard like she does when she's trying to concentrate. "Jeez, Quil doesn't look any different does he? I mean your mom—look at her hair! She was so young. But Quil…."

I snatched the picture out of her hands and looked closely. Katie was right. Oh, his dark hair was a lot shorter then, and his clothes were definitely a little dated, but in essentials, he was exactly the same. His smooth russet skin hadn't changed and he was just as enormous, looking even bigger because he held me—a small for her age five year old in his arms. His muscles still strained under his t-shirt like usual, and the impish grin he always wore was exactly the same. The picture could have been taken a week ago and I'd hardly know the difference.

"Wow," I whispered. "He really hasn't changed at all."

"And you never noticed that before?" Katie asked skeptically.

I could have pointed out that she'd known Quil almost as long as I had, and had never noticed anything either, but I only shook my head. "I dunno, I don't look at these pictures very often, and well Quil's always just been… Quil."

"And you really don't know how old he is?" I shook my head again, feeling stupid. I'd asked Colleen about it once, but she hadn't known, and I guess it hadn't mattered enough for me to ask Quil about it later.

But as I stared at the pictures, I decided he wasn't going to get out of it so easy this time.

I had to wait until the weekend to corner him, which only meant that there was more for all the little questions I'd had throughout the years to pile up. It seemed strange and impossible that I had I gone ten years without wondering what he did for a living, but now that my eyes were finally open, they were open all the way.

Quil always came over to my house at 10:30 on Saturdays, so I waited for him outside on my porch. The sun was shining brightly, and it was warmer

than usual for a late summer day, everything felt bright and warm in the sunlight. It even made my little faded blue house look better.

As always, my heart started beating a little faster when I saw Quil emerge from the woods—and there was another question, what was he doing in the woods anyway? He had a truck. He used it drive up and see me sometimes, but more often than not he what?—hitched a ride with someone and cut through the woods to my house? I didn't know for sure.

"Hey Claire," he smiled, and I smiled back up at him. He started to walk into the house, but I caught hold of his shirt.

"Can we just stay outside today? It's so nice."

Quil smiled and sat down beside me, as I stretched out my legs so the sun would hit them.

"So, vacation's going by pretty fast. You ready for school?" he asked.

"Thanks for reminding me!" I groaned. "We still have a month left—let me enjoy it. I don't want to think about ninth grade, or high school…or turning fourteen soon."

"Fourteen, huh?" There was an odd tone in his voice. I felt suddenly nervous, reminded of where I wanted this talk to go.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"I'm fine." I looked up at him, and he looked so concerned that I felt my nervousness fading. This was Quil after all; he wasn't going to get mad at me. "You remember how you said that I could talk to you about anything?" I began, feeling brave. Quil nodded, a little crease in his forehead. "Well, Katie and I were going through a bunch of old photos the other day, and we noticed that you don't look any younger in them…" I held out the picture and he took it from me, an odd look on his face. He stared at it for a few seconds before handing it back.

"I remember when that picture was taken—"

"_Quil!_" I interrupted angrily. "Don't change the subject! This is important to me. You look exactly the same as you did ten years ago, how is that even possible? I mean how old are you? And what do you do for a job, and why do you always come through the woods when you visit me? There's so much I don't know about you and it's not fair, you know _everything_ about me!"

"You're right," he said quietly. My head snapped up I hadn't expected him to give in so easily. "It's not fair… but Claire, there's a reason for it…and I can't tell you what that is."

Maybe not so easy after all.

"Why not?" I demanded, feeling the anger rise up through my chest. It took a lot to get me mad, but once I was it could get scary. Quil could see the signs and his voice lowered soothingly. He held my hand.

"Please Claire, can you just believe me that you're better off not knowing?"

"No!" I yelled, pulling my hand out of his. He looked a little hurt at that. "I don't see what the big deal is—what's wrong with wanting to know how old you are, or what you do?"

"There's nothing wrong with it, it's just hard to explain."

"So try. I have a right to know!" For the first time, I felt like maybe I'd gone too far.

After all, what _right _did I have? So yeah, we were friends, best friends even, on my part at least, but that didn't make me special.

I waited for him to tell me to mind my own business. But he didn't, if anything, he only looked guiltier, like I was making too much sense. "I have a right to know," I said again, quietly, just to see what he'd say.

"I know… I just didn't think you'd ask these questions yet. I'm not ready for this." He tugged on his hair nervously—it was the first time in as long as I'd known him that I'd seen him so uncertain.

I frowned up at him. He was acting like I was asking to know some deadly secret instead of just being a little bit nosy. My curiosity intensified. "I don't understand."

He raised his head to look straight at me. "Give me a little time—"I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off. "Just a little while, so I can tell you the right way."

"Why is this such a big deal?"

"It just is. Nothing about me is simple Claire, you should know that."

"Did you do something bad, is that why you can't tell me now?" He laughed. "Do you rob people? Are you in hiding? Are you a murderer?"

"Claire, come on." He rolled his eyes, but for a second I thought he looked worried. "If you don't let this go, I'll leave right now." I hated it when Quil got bossy, but I didn't want him to leave either.

"No!" I grabbed his hand when he pretended to stand. "I'll be good. But you promise to tell me right? Soon?" I begged him with my eyes.

I could see him melting. He usually did. "I promise," he sighed.

I relaxed, but didn't let go of his hand when sat down beside me again, the heat of it felt nice. "Good," I smiled.


	2. Chapter 2: Telling

I guess I always knew I loved Quil. At first, it was just as a brother or best friend. My feelings didn't have a name, but they didn't really need one. It was just there, all the time, in the back of everything. And then, when I finally understood what love was, or was supposed to be at least, I saw Quil with different eyes. I knew that when I grew up, I wanted to marry someone tall, and sweet, and funny, just like him. Because even if I didn't know for sure exactly how old Quil was, I knew it was too old for me. Too old for him to ever think of me as more than a kid.

I can't remember when it changed from wanting someone _like _him, to wanting _him._ When I began to let myself wonder what if and maybe… I know Katie thinks its puppy love, and maybe she's right, I don't have anything to compare it with. But it seems like more than my friends crushes, deeper somehow. And I know I should stop myself before I feel too much because it will always be impossible.

But it's not that he's beautiful—it's that no one understands me like he does. When I want to be quiet, he knows and stays silent. When I want to be crazy and wild, then we're crazy together. He thinks the way I think, and I'm afraid I'll never find anyone else like that. It's scary becauseI know I'm young, and I know it's impossible no matter how much I wish for it. But it's way too late to go back now.

So I keep quiet, and I don't let it show. It's easy most of the time. Everything with Quil is easy.

...

He didn't say anything about our talk for the next three days. Whenever I brought it up he told me to be patient and then he changed the subject. It made me angry though I tried not to glare at him and act like a baby. I wanted him to see how mature I could be—that I was ready for whatever it was that he needed to tell me—but I couldn't help it sometimes. Quil just grinned at me a little nervously and kept his mouth shut.

What was it that he was so afraid to tell me? It was the first time in as long as I could remember that he'd held something back from me; even when I was little and insanely curious, he answered all my questions, even the ones that made him uncomfortable. This new side of Quil was making me nervous.

...

"Hi Claire," my mom smiled, setting a grocery bag down on the counter. I was sitting at the kitchen table trying to eat a bowl of cereal. It wasn't working.

"Hey," I said, giving up and pushing the bowl away from me.

She sat down beside me, with a tired sigh."What did you do today?"

"Not much. I've been at Katie's all day. We watched some movies since it was raining." I glared at the grey drizzle through the window that kept Katie and me cooped up inside all day when I wanted so badly to go out.

"Did you have fun?" she asked. I shrugged and played with my food again, watching the corn puffs and milk splatter in the bowl. I was only half listening to her when she spoke next. "Aunt Emily called this morning; she wanted to know if you'd like to go down to La Push for the night. She said Quil would come up and get you."

My head snapped up at the mention of his name. "Why does she want me to go?"

My mother was looking at me very carefully, an odd look in her eyes. "They're having a bonfire on the cliffs." It seemed almost like she didn't want me to go. But it was just a bonfire… with Sam and Emily and Quil, and maybe Jared and Embry. What was so bad about that?

"Sounds like fun."

"I thought you'd say that." Her voice was resigned. "Quil will be here in an hour." She stood up and began putting away the groceries; I put my bowl in the sink and started to help her, but before I had a chance to grab anything, she turned and hugged me tightly.

I hugged her back, confused at this odd display. "You're growing up so fast Claire." I could feel her tears wetting my hair.

I pulled away slightly. "Mom what's wrong—you're acting like you'll never see me again?" She wiped at her tears. "I'm just going to Emily's; I've been there a thousand times before."

"I know. I'm just being sappy; don't pay any attention to me. It's just, I can't pretend that you're still a little kid anymore…" She kissed my cheek and went back to the groceries.

I tried to remember if she'd ever been this weird with Colleen, but I couldn't remember anything.

Quil was there, exactly on time as usual, in his old blue truck. I waved at him from my upstairs bedroom window and finished shoving a change of clothes into my backpack. I grabbed my warmest jacket from the front hall closet and walked down into the kitchen—

—Where my mother and were Quil were hugging. I froze and stared. She was crying again, though not as badly as before and he was saying something so softly I couldn't quite make it out. It sounded like _it's time _though. I coughed loudly and their eyes shot towards me. My mother sighed and patted his shoulder before pulling away.

"Are you ready to go Claire?" Quil asked, acting like I hadn't walked in on anything out of the ordinary. Sure, I'd seen them hugging before, hellos and goodbyes sometimes… but nothing like that. So I just nodded and let my mom kiss me. I would ask him in the truck.

As soon as he'd pulled out of my driveway I turned to face him.

"What was _that _all about?" I demanded.

He didn't even pretend not to know what I was talking about. "Your mom's just a little upset right now."

"I know, she was all weird on me today too—what is with her?"

"Don't be so tough on her. This is hard for her."

"_What_ is?" I cried. Everyone was going crazy I decided. Was I the only normal one left?

"You'll see," he said simply. I grumbled a bit and slouched against the seat. "I don't understand anything anymore," I mumbled.

Quil changed the subject. "So how's Colleen these days. I haven't seen her in awhile."

I scowled at the thought of my sixteen-year-old sister, who was acting just as odd as everyone else, only in a different way. "You're not the only one. She has a new boyfriend now; I only see her in the morning and at mealtimes."

"What happened to what's-his-face?"

"She dumped him for Taylor." Quil made an unsurprised grunt. I looked up at him

curiously. "Is always like that? I mean, Colleen told me she likes to try out different guys, to see which kind she likes best. But can't you just have one boyfriend and keep him around for awhile?"

"Sure you can." Quil smiled. "Colleen just likes having options."

"I'm not like that," I decided. "I want just one person, one true love. I don't want to kiss a bunch of frogs to find my prince."

Quil didn't say anything for a few seconds. I thought he was going to make fun of me, but he didn't. "You're a romantic Claire," he said simply.

"Do you think it's impossible?"

"I think it's rare—but not impossible; I've seen it happen before." He ginned at me. "But you never know, you might change your mind. After all, kissing frogs can be fun. Colleen sure thinks so." I smiled at him, and playfully shoved his shoulder.

"So my mom said something about a bonfire on the cliffs?"

"Yeah, there's going to be some story-telling and food and stuff."

"Why did Emily want me to come?"

Quil looked sheepish for a second. "Actually, _I _wanted you to come. You remember what we were talking about a few days ago?"

"Of course—are you finally going to tell me the truth?"

"Yes; I'll tell you everything you need to know."

"At the bonfire?" I was confused. It seemed like a strange place to spill all his secrets. But as long he told me, I didn't care where or who else was around. I watched Quil closely as he drove, noticing for the first time how nervous he was. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, practically glaring at the road in his concentration.

Uncertainly, I touched his shoulder. "Are you ok?" He raised an eyebrow at me. "You seem kind of…worried."

"I'm fine." He took his hand off the wheel and laid it palm up on the seat between us, so I could wrap my hand around it tightly.

"Why are you so afraid of telling me? Is it really so bad?"

Quil shrugged. "It's just not…easy."

"You know there's nothing you can say that will scare me."

"We'll see."

Even though I disagreed I didn't say anything. Quil would see soon enough.

The drive from Neah Bay to La Push never seemed that long with Quil, and only a little while later we were in La Push, pulling up in front of Emily and Sam's little house. Quil grabbed my backpack and we walked inside together. From another room I could hear one of my baby cousins laughing, a familiar homey sound.

Emily walked out of the kitchen and hugged me tightly. "Hello Claire," she said, taking the bag out of Quil's hand. "I'm so glad you could come down. It's been awhile." It _had _been awhile, or at least it felt that way.

She sat me down at the kitchen table and handed me one of her freshly baked cookies. Aunt Emily had always been so opposite of her older sister, my mother. Sweet and motherly and very homey, whereas my mom was not exactly domestic: she had "issues" with the stove sometimes. And that was not the only difference; even despite the long healed scar on my Aunt's face, they looked completely unrelated. They were a lot like me and Colleen actually.

I remembered being four years old and asking about the jagged lines on my Aunt's face. Even then, I felt the tension sparked by my question. Sam inhaled sharply, and Quil scowled. Only Emily stayed normal, she said it was an accident. I never asked about it again.

After my snack, Quil and I spent the rest of the evening wandering around La Push, which was almost as much of a home to me as Neah Bay since I'd spent so much time there over the years. Everyone knew me pretty well, and they all waved and said hello as we walked towards the beach. I was trying not to be impatient and annoy Quil, especially since he was being so quiet. So we watched the sun go down in silence, our shoulders lightly touching, with my head bursting with questions and curiosity.

Finally, Quil said it was time and we walked towards the cliffs where I could see the blaze of the bonfire against the dusky twilight sky.

There was a large group of people already there, standing to one side of the bonfire, talking and laughing loudly. As we walked closer to them, I felt myself becoming even more confused. There were too many people… Sam and Emily of course, and Embry, Jared and his wife Kim, like I'd expected, but there were many others who I hadn't. Collin, Brady, Paul and his wife, and Seth Clearwater too. His mother Sue was standing there, next to Billy Black. Finally, I saw Old Quil Ateara, Quil's grandfather, looking ancient, like a puff of wind would blow him over, sitting in an old plastic lawn chair.

I knew all these people of course, some better than others. But it made no sense that they would be here now, somehow a part of Quil's secret.

I had never seen Quil's grandfather outside of his house before, and I'd thought because of his worsening health that he was pretty much housebound by now…and yet, there he was, smiling up at me. I resisted the urge to hide behind Quil's shoulder. I didn't know why exactly, but Quil's grandfather always made me uncomfortable. He had a way of looking at a person as if he could see straight through them. He always made me feel like all my secrets were laid bare in front of him.

Then there were the things he said to me! Always, _always, _a comment about how big and grown up I was getting, and what a pretty girl I was growing into. And then he'd look slyly at someone else in the group, like he was sharing a private joke. Nevertheless, I'd always made myself be especially nice to him, knowing how much Quil loved him. Plus, he was a tribal elder; everyone respected him, especially Sam and Emily. So, I bit my cheek and tried not to let Quil see how nervous his grandfather made me.

I could feel Quil standing directly behind me, and instinctively I moved backwards to get closer to him, feeling his warmth spread across my back. He was so tall; the top of my head barely reached over his elbow. Quil laid his hands lightly on my shoulders, and I reached up with one hand to wrap my fingers around his wrist. Nothing ever seemed so bad or scary if Quil was with me. It was an odd kind of hiding, but it always made me feel safe. I managed a weak smile at old Quil.

Kim was grinning at us. She quickly walked over and hugged Quil tightly, temporarily sandwiching me between their bodies; I moved back into him even more. But then, she leaned down and kissed me on the cheek.

"Hey Claire, I haven't seen you in awhile. Been busy?"

I shrugged. "I've mostly been hanging out with my friend Katie. And Quil of course," I added as an afterthought.

"Of course," she nodded, grinning again. Quil's fingers shifted on my shoulders, and I thought he was going to pull away, but I grabbed his hand again, holding on tightly. I didn't know Kim or Paul's wife Rachel as well as I knew Emily, but I'd almost spent as much time with them growing up. I liked Kim better; she was shyer, but she and Quil had a jokey relationship that made me laugh.

After everyone had said hello, and Old Quil had interrogated me as usual for a few minutes, we all sat down in front of the fire and the food was passed around. Quil knew exactly how I liked my hotdogs toasted, so I let him do it for me. Everyone was laughing and telling stories. It felt like a reunion in a way, like these people were all family. I was the youngest person in the group, something I was pretty used to in La Push, even if it made me feel awkward sometimes. So I didn't say much, and just leaned against Quil's shoulder.

It was strange the way the mood suddenly changed. I felt like I had missed some subtle cue signifying a shift in conversation. Everyone suddenly leaned forwards, listening, their attention all focused on Old Quil. I looked too even though I didn't know what to expect. I glanced up at Quil and he tried to smile reassuringly, but his face looked nervous, worried.

Was this about the secret?

And then Old Quil started speaking in a low voice, and I felt disappointment course through me for a moment, as I realized it was just some old tribal legend he was telling. It had nothing to do with Quil at all. Irritated, I looked at Quil again. He only smiled lightly and nodded in his grandfather's direction, telling me to pay attention.

So I did, and after a few minutes I didn't care about Quil's secret anymore, I was too wrapped up in Old Quil's story. Finally, I understood why everyone treated Old Quil with such respect—his words wove themselves brilliantly into my mind, creating pictures, until I could actually _see _the great Quileute leader Taha Aki in my mind. I saw him speak to the wolf, asking to share his body, to become a spirit walker. I saw him and the other men running through the forest, their bodies sinuously melting into the huge powerful form of the wolf. It was so real I could almost hear them moving in the space around us…

—A violent coughing fit interrupted Old Quil's tale. Emily was next to him in seconds, giving him a bottle of water. She sighed and told him that he should have stayed inside out of the wind.

Old Quil shook his head. In between spasms he spoke. "I'm the one—who should tell this story—for my Grandson—and—"Another burst of coughing interrupted him again.

Emily rubbed his back. "Don't strain yourself too much; Sam can tell the rest of it now. He knows it just as well as you do." Old Quil nodded, though he looked at his grandson guiltily. They shared a long look, but when his breathing returned to normal, Old Quil waved Sam on.

Sam's voice was not quite as powerful as Old Quil's, but even I could see the potential in it. Someday, Sam would be able to weave the same magic. Soon, I was lost in the story again, only pulling myself away from Sam once to look up at Quil. He was watching me closely, gauging my reaction. I smiled at him brilliantly, thanking him for sharing this with me. I was sure I would never, ever forget this night.

When Sam stopped speaking and the tale was over, a collective sigh filled the air around us. I blinked, forcing my mind back to the present. Very suddenly, I was aware that everyone's eyes were on me. I blushed and ducked my head, noticing how they each quickly looked away, as if pretending they hadn't been staring at me in the first place. I had never liked being the center of attention, and in this group, I liked it even less.

Old Quil, cleared his voice. "I think I'm well enough to tell _one _more story." He smiled at the group, and oddly, I felt Quil tense next to me. But I didn't think of it long, and leaned forwards instead. These Quileute legends were making my head spin. In a good way.

"The power of the wolf gave Taha Aki the life span of many men. He saw his first two wives, whom he loved dearly die of old age, and he saw his many sons and daughters grow, age and finally die as well. But Taha Aki stayed young with the power of the wolf." Quil was pulling on my hand now, trying to get me to stand up with him. I shoved his hand away.

"I'm listening," I hissed, before turning back to the story.

"Years after the death of his second wife, many women desired him for his braveness and strength, but Taha Aki had already met the woman who would become the third wife, and the love he felt for her was greater than anything he had experienced in his long life. Like the push and pull of the tides, the third wife drew him into an eternal dance, and suddenly the whole world was shadow and she was his only light. The very instant he saw her, their souls entwined and he was hers forever."

Quil stood suddenly, pulling me up with him. Old Quil never stopped speaking, but as Quil led me from the fire, I saw a grin spread across his face. He was laughing.

"Quil!" I yelled, when we were far enough away from the bonfire so that the others couldn't hear us. "What are you doing? I wanted to hear the rest of the story!" I tugged my hand out of his, and crossed my arms around my chest, glaring up at him.

Quil grumbled to himself. "Don't you want to hear my secret now?" He asked, trying to distract me.

"It couldn't have waited five minutes?" I asked, peevishly. I was a little surprised at my anger, usually I was never upset with Quil. But there was something about that story….

"You'll hear the rest of it soon enough," he muttered. His eyes met mine and they were pleading. _Please just drop it, _he begged.

I sighed. Quil begging was not something I could resist. Ever. "Fine, tell me." Quil's hand found mine again and I let him hold it as we walked, more slowly this time, further along the cliffs.

Hesitantly, Quil spoke. "What did you think of the story—the first story I mean? Did you like it?"

"It was amazing," I breathed, unable to keep the smile off my face. "Something about it… I don't know… just _got _to me. I wanted to hear more." Quil was smiling too. His hand tightened around mine. "I didn't know you had legends like that. I thought the Quileutes were a Salmon tribe, like the Makahs. But spirit walkers… wow."

Quil's eyes were intense, a fire burned hotly inside the darkness. There was an edge to his low, nervous voice.

"Claire, what if I told you that that story is real?"


	3. Chapter 3: Changes

**A/N: So Quil isn't going to tell Claire about imprinting until much later on in the story, only that he is a werewolf. Sorry! I know how much everyone was looking forward to it, but it just doesn't fit in with my plans for the rest of the story. Claire's still too young and Quil's still too freaked about changing that side of their relationship. Poor Claire, she has a long wait :-(**

**I promise it will still be good though!**

* * *

It's always rainy on the Olympic Peninsula. Always, always, always. And green. And damp. And cold. But I love it.

I love to look up at the sky and see all the hundred different shades of grey, and wake up to the sound of rain falling, the leaves of the trees shaking in the wind. I like walking on the beach and hearing the stormy waves crash along the shore. I like seeing that little patch of blue in the sky as the clouds start to blow away. And… I like the way Quil smells in the rain, fresh and woodsy. I like the way his black hair sticks up all over the place when he tries to brush the water out. I like the way he vividly stands out against such a pale grey background.

As I lay in bed, I could hear the gentle pitter-patter of the rain hitting the roof above me. Normally the sound lulled me to sleep almost like a lullaby, but tonight I was wide-awake, replaying every second of what had been the most memorable night of my life, trying to memorize everything.

I thought back to the words that had started it all.

"_Claire, what if I told you that that story is real?"_

I frowned. "What do you mean?" I didn't understand what Quil meant.

He ducked until our heads were almost on the same level and looked me straight in the eyes. "I mean that the legend is true—I know it's going to sound crazy, but something in some of the Quileutes, something in our blood, gives us the power to become wolves, like the spirit wolves in the legend."

I stared at him.

"Stop teasing me Quil!" I tried to smile, but his words unsettled me. He was so serious. There was no flicker of a grin on his face like there usually was when he was joking.

"I _am _being serious Claire."

And then he started to tell me everything. He told me how just after his sixteenth birthday, his body exploded and his entire life changed. He told me about his wolf form, how huge and strong it was, how fast. He told me about the Cold Ones—the natural enemy of the wolf, the reason why he changed that first time. Vampires.

I sat on a damp rock while Quil talked. He was all nervousness and excitement, his eyes bright as he watched me anxiously while he spoke. But I kept my face blank, slowly absorbing his words. Inside my head was spinning.

"You're serious about this?" I asked when he had finished. Quil nodded. "And all those people—Uncle Sam and Aunt Emily and everyone—they know too?"

He grinned. "Of course they know!" He laughed. "Your uncle is the alpha of the Pack!"

I stared at him, openmouthed. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "And Embry, Seth, Collin, Brady, Paul, Jared, and most of the other guys I hang out with are wolves too, just like me."

I digested that for a few seconds. "But why didn't you tell me about this when I was younger? Did you think I'd be afraid of you?"

"It's a big secret to tell a kid," he shrugged. "And, I didn't want have to be the one to tell you that mythical creatures actually exist. That I turn into a giant dog and kill vampires in my spare time!" He shook his head. "It all sounds so crazy, even to me, and I've been living with it since I was sixteen." He ran his fingers through his hair, making the ends stick up all over the place. He looked very tired suddenly and older somehow.

I slid down off the rock and hugged him tightly. He stroked my hair and held me just as closely. "I don't care about any of that. You're just Quil—_my _Quil." I pulled away a little bit so I could see his face. "I'm so glad you told me this. I don't like it when there are secrets between us."

"You're the only one I'd tell," he said quietly. "But you have to keep this just between us Claire. Nobody else can know my secret, not even Katie or your sister."

"Of course I won't tell anyone else. I'll take it to the grave."

He flinched. "Well, maybe not that far." Then he pulled away, easily enfolding my hand in his. "Come on. It's past your bedtime." I scowled, not liking to be reminded of things like bedtimes on a night like this. Someday, I decided, Quil and I would spend the whole night on the beach, and I'd make sure he didn't say one word about my age.

We walked back to the campfire to find it mostly deserted. Just Sam and Emily remained; they sat waiting for us by the dying embers. Emily smiled at me, and her eyes were glistening as she pulled me into a tight hug.

"So this is all real, huh?" I asked, just because I felt like I _should, _even though I believed Quil already.

"It's real," she agreed. I felt a heaviness descend on me with her words, but it was a good kind of heavy. Quil _trusted _me; he wanted me to know his secrets. I felt suddenly older, more mature with the knowledge.

After one look back at Quil who was standing by the dying fire, smiling slightly to himself, Emily and I walked slowly home together as warm rain began to fall from the sky.

I wanted to fall asleep quickly and dream about the stories I'd heard around the fire; I wanted to run downstairs in the morning and see Quil sitting at Emily's kitchen table waiting for me with a smile. And then, after we'd eaten, I wanted him to take me to the beach so I'd have the entire day to ask all the questions I hadn't gotten a chance to before. But I was too excited for sleep. My mind was racing with bits of stories, and all I could see behind my closed eyes was the look on Quil's face—so nervous and eager—as he shared this new side of himself with me.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I listened to the rain. I knew that I loved Quil more than ever now. I loved him for his hesitancy, for his anxiousness, for his trust. And I knew that things would never be the same again.

...

"Come on Quil!" I whined. It had taken me forever to fall asleep the night before, and even though I was still tired, I woke up early, eager to see Quil again. Just as I'd hoped, he was waiting for me in the kitchen, already eating the breakfast that Aunt Emily made for him.

It was still a little rainy out, but neither of us wanted to stay cooped up in the house, so we walked down to First Beach. I started attacking him with questions as soon as we were alone, and he answered them easily enough.

But on one thing, he wouldn't budge.

"It won't scare me," I pushed. I'm serious!"

"When you're older I'll show you."

"That excuse doesn't work anymore Quil, I'm _thirteen_, I'll be fourteen in just a couple months!" He didn't say anything but his mouth pressed into a thin line. "I don't see what the big deal is with you showing me your wolf form," I pouted.

"Please Claire, not yet ok?" I didn't say anything. "Come on, let's go to our rock," he tried to change the subject.

I nodded, even though I didn't intend to let him off so easily. He pulled me up onto his back and into a piggyback ride, which was our habit. It began when I was little and the walk to our favorite spot on the beach was too much for me, and it had continued even after I was old enough to walk it myself. Quil never complained that I was too heavy for him, like my father had when I turned nine, and I think he liked it just as much as I did.

"_When_ are you going to show me?" I persisted.

"I don't know, maybe never if you keep this up," he teased, reaching over to tickle me.

"Quil!" I screamed, whacking his back. I _hated _it when he tickled me.

"I have to get you to shut up about it somehow," he defended himself.

I sighed and laid my head against his shoulder. As long as you show me someday." I scooted forward so he could see me out of the corner of eyes. "Promise me?"

"You're insane," he shook his head. "I sort of regret telling you about the whole thing now." I shook him. "Ok, ok! I promise."

"Really?"

Very quietly, he said again, all joking gone from his voice. "I promise Claire, I will show you someday."

"You won't scare me," I said confidently. I could tell that he didn't like talking about it anymore, so I took pity on him. "Tell me about the vampires."

He tensed. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. What do they look like—are the stories true about them too? Do stakes and garlic work against them? How do you kill them?"

"Bloodsuckers are dangerous Claire, deadly," he said quietly. "Most of the superstitions about them aren't real: garlic and crosses are useless against them, and the sun doesn't hurt them either. Nothing does really; they're like stone, hard, unbreakable and immortal. Only when we phase can we kill them." His voice was very quiet and I could tell that his mind was somewhere else.

"And they… eat humans?" I whispered.

"Yes."

"What do they look like?"

"Beautiful I guess, all of them, like they're carved out of marble," he said thoughtfully. "And they sparkle in the sunlight, like diamonds. But they smell wrong—too sweet and cold—and their eyes are blood red. They look _wrong_ to me. I hope to God you never get close enough to one to see for yourself." He reached up to cover my arms, which were around his neck with a large warm hand, but it did no good, and I felt chilled in spite of his warmth.

"Are there any good ones?" I asked hopefully, but not expecting a yes. The way that Quil talked about these…monsters made it sound like they were all completely evil.

But he surprised me. "Sure. Even some who drink human blood aren't that bad as far as vampires go. And then there's the Cullens', a kind of… family who used to live in Forks. They learned how to live off of animals instead of people."

"What happened to them?"

"They left," he said simply. He sighed. "Come on, I don't want to talk about this anymore. You'll hear the rest of it soon enough."

I didn't protest. We reached our spot, and Quil let me down off his back so I could scramble up the enormous rock that jutted up from the beach. It was a place that we had discovered years ago; it was too far away for the average day-tripper tourist or beachcomber to find. But it was worth the walk—from the top of the huge rock on a clear day you could see for miles and miles. Even on a rainy day the view was beautiful, the foggy grey ocean on one side and the lush, green forests of La Push on the other, all sheathed in mist.

Quil and I sat there awhile in silence. Being with him, like this, felt so utterly _normal. _It was hard to reconcile these two worlds—Quil's world, the world where legends were true and mythical creatures actually existed, and this peaceful ordinary world where everything was just as it had always been—even harder for Quil, I realized, who walked a strange fine line between both.

It was one thing to simply hear the legends; it made it very easy to think of this supernatural world as being too far off to be real. But the way Quil talked about it… it made me shiver. It was strange to think of Quil as being in danger like that.

"You're safe though, aren't you?"

He grinned, and there was an edge of excitement in his voice when he spoke "Of course, it's easy for the pack to handle a vampire every once in a while. Most of us probably wouldn't mind if they came more often. And we're not helpless Claire. We can run just as fast as they can, and our jaws are strong enough to tear them apart. We heal incredibly fast—I'll show that you sometime. It's what we do_, _why we exist at all. To kill _them._"

His words sent a shiver down my spine. I didn't like the way he talked about it so easily, as if he actually enjoyed…tearing vampires apart. It sounded like he wasn't afraid of them at all. I didn't respond, not sure what I should say. Of course I trusted Quil, just like I trusted my uncle, and Jared and Embry. And if they were so confident, then I would be as well.

Still… I reached for his hand. The world was changing so fast and I wanted to hold onto Quil as tightly as possible so that no matter what happened, we'd always stay together.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4: Dancing Unto Death

"Oow!" I moaned, pulling off my shoes and rubbing my abused big toe.

"Claire?" I heard the door close, and a voice call out from the kitchen.

"I'm in the living room Quil," I called back. I took a deep breath and pulled off my sock. Ew. My toe looked like a cinder block had been dropped on it, it was so red and bruised. "I'm never dancing with Evan Trope again," I growled. It was only two and a half weeks into the school year and it had already become my living hell. It had to be a record.

Quil raised an eyebrow. "_You _were dancing?"

I nodded. "Dancing." I tried to make it sound like a swear word. I tore my eyes off my gross foot and looked up at him. "Instead of regular gym we're learning different types of dances—we started with Quileute, and then we did a couple traditional African dances, and then a square dance. Those were fun; but this week we're doing ballroom." I scowled down at my foot, trying to rub away the pain. "I got paired with Evan, and he's the worst dancer in the whole school! He stepped on my foot every single time!"

"Oh." Quil sat down beside me on the couch, and took my foot into his hands, lightly massaging it. The heat felt nice. Even better than the icepack the school nurse had given me after one particularly disastrous step.

"I'm never ballroom dancing again," I mumbled, closing my eyes.

"Not even with me?" he asked quietly.

I opened my eyes and saw Quil smiling at me, the smile that makes my heart flutter because he looks so good. I blinked, trying to remember what we had been talking about. Oh right, dancing. I snorted. "No way, your feet are twice the size of Evan's! Do you know how much that would hurt?"

"Give me a little more credit than that Claire, I happen to be a very good dancer—it's true! When Jared and Kim got married, she wanted to do a waltz for the first dance…. She wasn't very good," he laughed. "So she roped me into practicing with her since Jared was so busy. We got to be pretty good."

"I don't believe you," I said skeptically, and pulled my foot out of his hands.

"Oh really?" My eyes narrowed. There was an expression on his face that I didn't like at all. He grinned over at me. "Do I need to prove it you?"

"Quil, what are you doing?" I asked warily. His grin became even bigger.

Suddenly, I was off the couch, my feet swinging above the ground as Quil held me with one arm around the waist. He pushed the coffee table out of the way with his foot, and set me gently on the floor.

I still wasn't used to his inhumanely quick reflexes even though it had been almost two months since the bonfire. He'd been doing stuff like that more often, showing me exactly what his werewolf-y powers made him capable of, but was still a little unnerving.

I peered up at him. "You're too tall." My hand barely reached his shoulder. He didn't say anything, just laid his hand on my waist, and wrapped the other around my own hand. "We don't have any music," I whispered, feeling electricity zing between our bodies.

"We don't need any music," he murmured.

And suddenly, we were dancing. I forgot the painful throbbing in my toe, I forgot that I was only wearing one sock and that I probably looked ridiculous, I forgot that I didn't know the dance at all and that it was only Quil's leading that was keeping me from stumbling, and I especially forgot all about stupid Evan Trope and his darn two left feet. Even the difference in our height didn't matter. It was just him and me moving to some silent, lovely rhythm.

And Quil didn't step on my feet at all.

A fancy twirl—a dip—we were gliding around my living room. It was nothing like the fumbling that had taken place in the gym. Quil was just as good as he said he was…and it was even better because our bodies were so close together. He was actually _holding _me, and it was so much nicer than our quick hugs or our handholding.

It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours. I lost track of time completely.

I wanted to stay in his arms forever.

The phone rang shrilly, making us break apart in surprise. I hadn't realized how wrapped up in the dance we'd been. I had to sprint into the kitchen to reach it before the machine picked up.

"Hello."

"Claire, honey." It was Uncle Sam. He sounded tired. "Can I talk to Quil please?" I wasn't even surprised that Sam knew Quil would be at my house; he knew up both too well.

"Sure," I handed the phone over to Quil, who had followed me into the kitchen, and then listened in growing alarm to the hurried conversation that took place. While Sam spoke, Quil's face went white behind his russet skin, and his eyes widened in fear.

"How much time is left...? I'll be there as soon as I can." He hung up the receiver and looked over at me, I could see the worry in his eyes. "It's my grandfather; he's not doing so good. He's in the hospital."

My mouth opened in surprise. "I'm sorry Claire, I have to go," he said quickly, before I could say anything.

"No of course, call me when—_if_ anything happens. I'll wait by the phone. Call whenever."

Quil hugged me quickly and was out the door before I even had a chance to blink. I watched him as he disappeared into the trees.

So Old Quil was dying at last. I'd been hearing Aunt Emily tell my mother about his failing health for weeks now so it wasn't really a surprise. But I felt a stab of pity for Quil, who had always thought of his grandfather as a second father. Quil would miss him so much…

I didn't get any sleep that night. I wondered what Quil was doing and who he was with. I hoped whoever it was, was helping him through it. I didn't like the idea of Quil alone and hurting.

When the phone rang early the next morning before school started, I knew it was Quil even before I put the receiver to my ear.

"Claire—he's…he's gone." Quil's voice sounded heavy, strained.

"Oh, Quil, I'm so sorry," I breathed. "I'll come down as soon as I can. I know Colleen will give me a ride. We can miss a day of school."

"You don't have to come Claire; I'm so busy I probably won't have much time for you anyway."

"That's ok. I _want _to come!" I insisted. Quil stayed silent. "But…if you'd rather I didn't, I'll wait until my mom comes home. I know she'll want to help too."

"I think that's a good idea. You should go to class."

We were silent for a few seconds. I wanted to tell him that I knew how much he was hurting now; I wanted to say exactly the right thing to bring him a little comfort. But I didn't know how to, so I settled for the next best thing. "I'm always here for you Quil, you know that right? I'll do whatever you need."

"I know Claire," he sighed. "I have to go."

"Ok. Call me if you need to talk or anything, or if you change your mind."

"I will, I promise."

When my mother came home from work, she took the news with a little sigh. "I can't say I haven't been expecting it for awhile now. I'll call Emily and tell her not to worry about dinner. We'll bring something down with us."

We were in La Push for two days, and out of two whole days I saw Quil only three times. Each time he was so hurried I didn't have time for anything more than a few quick sentences and a hug. Emily told us he was taking it hard; he blamed himself for letting Old Quil go to the bonfire.

So I kept out of the way at Emily's, making food for the funeral with my mother, Kim, and Colleen. The careless afternoon I spent dancing with Quil felt like a long time ago.

...

I stood in the small La Push graveyard. It seemed like everyone—the whole tribe, and many from others that I didn't recognize—were here to pay their respects to Old Quil on this gloomy, terrible day. The rain had started early in the morning as a thin trickle and it lasted all day. Everything was damp and grey, and the sea of black umbrellas didn't seem to be doing anyone much good. From somewhere I heard the rhythmic thrumming of drums. The haunting sound added to the melancholy feel.

I stood with my parents and Colleen a little way from the crowd that surrounded Quil, trying to stay out of everyone's way. I wasn't paying attention to them though, or to the conversation taking place around me. My eyes stayed locked on Quil, who stood on the other side of the cemetery. The pack stood around him in a close circle, all tall, solemn faced and silent. They looked so alike, especially from a distance that anyone else would have had trouble distinguishing one from the other, but I was so attuned to Quil that I knew exactly where he stood.

Person after person after person went up to him, an endless stream come to offer their condolences. I knew he was trying so hard to be strong, but I saw his shoulders slump and his head bow, and I knew he was in pain though he was trying hard not to give in to it. He was waiting until tonight, when everyone was gone.

Colleen held my hand. It was the only thing that kept me from running to his side.

So I watched him and wondered when the pretending would become too much, when he would need to back away and give in to it. Whenever my view of him was obscured, I shifted slightly, peering through the maze of bodies and umbrellas until I could see him again. I was determined not to let him out of my sight. I couldn't imagine what I would be feeling in his place, but I knew that without Quil there to hold me up, I might as well curl up into a ball... And if he needed me, then I would be ready.

When he raised his eyes from the latest well wisher I didn't recognize, there was something desperate and seeking in them. He quickly scanned the graveyard and when his gaze found mine and I saw the look in his eyes, I was already moving. I pulled out of Colleen's grasp and ran as fast as I could towards him, weaving through the thick crowd of people, glad for once that I was short and slight for my age. When Jared, Sam and Embry saw me running towards them, they stepped aside widening the circle to give me space.

Quil was waiting for me, arms outstretched. I slammed into him, wrapping my arms fiercely around his waist. Quil bent over me, hugging me back just as tightly, stroking my hair, which I had left long and loose for the funeral. And then, he pulled back slightly, to lightly kiss my cheek before pulling me up into his arms.

I had to bite back a gasp of surprise.

Quil, as a general rule did not kiss me. Hugs and hand holding were all well and good, but kisses—even chaste ones on the cheek, were not part of our relationship. I had always wondered about it since no one else seemed to have this same problem. Embry, Seth and even Jared and Paul, kissed my cheek all the time.

Why did it feel so different when Quil did it? Was it because I was in love with him that I felt the heat generated by it? Was it all in my imagination? Still, it set my heart beating furiously—faster than the drums.

We didn't need to say anything as we held each other. Quil breathed deeply, resting his forehead lightly on my shoulder as I rubbed his back. I liked being able to do that for Quil. I liked being the one he reached for; all my life I'd gone to him for comfort, it was nice to know he needed me in the same way.

A faint glimmer of light shone above us, breaking through the thickly overcast sky. Everything sparkled brightly, each drop of rain on the leaves was a diamond, casting brilliant rainbows of light. "Look," I said, blinking up at the suddenly bright sky. "The sun's coming out."

I felt suddenly uplifted: I was with Quil, and no matter what else, he _needed_ me. I knew I could help him through this. I would stay with him as long as he wanted me there. Quil set me down on the ground and I took his hand in my own and leaned against his side.

Little did I know that despite the sun, my gloomy days were only just beginning.

* * *

**A/N: I really appreciate all the feedback I've been getting for this story. Your reviews are so appreciated!! I know this was a slow chapter, but I really wanted to show the relationship more between Quil and Claire.**

**I'm on summer vacation now, so look for updates once or twice a week. **

**--Rosybud  
**


	5. Chapter 5: Stay with Me

**Disclaimer: Once again, Quil and Claire don't belong to me, but to the amazing Stephenie Meyer :-(**

**A/N: I did some research for this chapter to make sure I got the geography of the Makah reservation correct. There's a bunch of good websites out there with lots of pictures and info.**

**Oh, and I changed my summary a bit. I like the new one much better.**

**Update: I was lucky enough to visit the Olympic Peninsula and all the places I describe in this story, so afterwards I made sure that everything was accurate. Anyone who can go, do it! It's such an amazing, beautiful place!**

* * *

It was disgustingly hot out— far too hot for a normal day in late September, especially in what was supposed to be the rainiest place in the U.S. My sister loved it of course, and any time she wasn't with her friends I saw her lying out in the sunniest part of the backyard soaking it in.

And it _was_ beautiful, I had to admit. The lush green became a vivid emerald in the sunlight, and the sky was a perfect cloudless blue so bright that it almost hurt my eyes. But the air was stiflingly close, heavy and windless, as if a storm was coming in spite of the hazy clear sky and burning sun.

But the weather was the last thing on my mind. It was Quil's usual afternoon to visit so I had just thrown on one of my few pairs of shorts and gone to wait for him on the front step. It had been four days since I'd heard from him— just one quick phone call—and almost a week since he'd been to my house. Even though it was normal to see less of him after school started, I couldn't remember one time in my life that we'd gone longer than a week without seeing each other. The separation made me feel jittery, like something had happened that I wasn't being told about.

But Quil came at exactly the usual time, emerging from the trees tugging on an old t-shirt. I watched him closely as he walked towards me. He looked tired, and his steps were heavier than usual. He didn't smile when he saw me, but I didn't let it hurt my feelings knowing how busy he'd been since his grandfather's death. Maybe the weather was getting him down too; I couldn't imagine what the temperature was doing to his already roasting body.

"Hey Claire," he said when I ran out to meet him. He ran his fingers through his damp hair, making it stick up in every direction.

"Quil, where have you been? It's been so long since I've seen you."

"I'm sorry. I lost track of time." He smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Do you want to go to the beach today?"

I nodded. On hot days, we inevitably ended up there, in search of a cool breeze. Not that I minded, something about Quil and the ocean seemed to go so well together.

My house was the farthest one from the beach in my tiny little town, but it was still only a short walk. Besides La Push, I had practically spent my entire childhood on that smooth stretch of sand, exploring the teeming tidal pools and twisted driftwood, building sandcastles and watching the huge luxury fishing boats that anchored off the bay. The shoreline was deserted today, surprising me since I'd assumed more people would be trying to escape the brutal weather same we were, but only one lone tourist stood down on the far of the shore taking pictures, and she ignored us.

"Come on, let's walk down the beach a bit," Quil said quietly. It was the first thing he'd said to me since showing up at my house. Every time I peered up at him, his face was coolly blank, his forehead creased like he was thinking very, very hard. I wondered what he was thinking about, but I knew he wouldn't tell me until he was ready. So I took off my sandals, and threaded my fingers through his and let him be quiet. No silence was ever empty or awkward with Quil.

He held my hand tightly in his.

The Juan de Fuca strait was angry and grey, its usually rough waves even more violent as they crashed along the shore, shooting white spray high into the air. I could see the purple-blue mountains of Vancouver Island in the distance—a rare sight since the fog so often obscured the view. Gulls flew in the air above us, dipping and twisting, their sharp keening calls penetrating the quiet. As we walked, the weather was changing rapidly, clouds were rolling in off the ocean and the wind was picking up, easing the awful heat. I watched as the clouds came closer and closer, growing darker as they came. Faint thunder rolled in the distance.

I was a little surprised that Quil wasn't insisting we go back to the house before the storm broke, but it seemed like he wasn't paying any attention to the darkening sky around us, which was fine with me. I had always loved storms, and I especially loved watching the ocean during one.

We'd walked a long way down the beach, far enough so the cluster of houses that made up the town were just a brown mass in the distance, and the tourist wasn't even a prick of red against the sand anymore. I let go of Quil's hand and bent to pick up a small, flat stone.

Next weekend was my fourteenth birthday. My mom had been planning the party for weeks. She'd sent invitations to all my school friends, and Aunt Emily and Uncle Sam were coming, along with Seth and Embry and Quil of course. I hadn't been down to La Push since the funeral, which had been weeks ago, so I was excited to see them.. I didn't care much about the actual party; I was more excited about turning fourteen at last. _Finally _I was well on my way to growing up. Finally Quil wouldn't be able to tell me I was too young anymore. The thought made me smile.

"You'll have to take me back to Second Beach soon," I called out to him. "I want to see the starfish in the tidal pools again." I threw the rock I was holding into the ocean, but it was too wild and uneven, the stone just sank.

"Claire," Quil said quietly, calling me over to him. His voice sounded strange.

I walked to him and looked up at his face, which was still creased and worried. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment, just a moment, but when he opened them I bit back a gasp of surprise. I'd never seen that expression on his face before; it was cold and _hard_ somehow, the happy relaxed look he'd always had for me was gone.

"Claire…" He struggled with my name, and had to take a deep breath before starting again. "This is so hard. I don't how I'm supposed to say this," he mumbled to himself. "How am I supposed to tell you?"

"Just spit it out Quil." The panicky feeling in stomach that had disappeared as soon as I'd seen Quil in the afternoon came back again in force.

He took a deep breath. "I'm not coming around anymore Claire—"

"Is this a joke?" I interrupted. "Cause it's not very funny Quil—" he cut me off.

"It's not a joke," he said simply. "I'm not coming to up to Neah Bay anymore, I'm going to leave you alone."

Something was rising through my chest—confusion, hurt, but mostly anger; I couldn't think straight. "But…why? We're friends." It didn't seem like the right word, 'friends.' Quil had always been much more. There wasn't even a word for it. He was everything.

I always thought he felt the same way.

"Not anymore."

The air was punched out of my lungs.

"I don't believe you!"

"Claire, this doesn't have anything to do with you, ok. This is because of _me._ I just need… some space… to be alone." His eyes were desperate, and I saw that he needed something from me. Acceptance maybe, or permission. He wanted me to let him do this.

_But I love you.  
_  
I couldn't say that though, so I asked the next question in my head. "For how long?" He didn't say anything and the anger swelled up.

"What, forever?" I took a step back in shock. Thunder was echoing in the distance, coming closer and closer, the wind was thrashing at my hair, but I didn't care

"What the hell started all this? I saw you a week agoand everything was normal! Everything was _fine."_

"This is what's best for everyone, best for you. Please—don't make this any harder."

"Stay with me," I said simply, pleadingly.

"Please Claire," he begged. There was something helpless, hopeless in his eyes. Something torn and broken. Something foreign. "_Please _let me go."

"But… but—" I wracked my brain looking for something—anything—to make him change his mind. "But… I go to La Push all the time, I'll see you there…" I pushed down the terrible voice inside my head that told me _he _was the only reason I visited so often. My Aunt and Uncle were just a wonderfully convenient excuse.

"When you're there, I won't be," he promised.

I felt dizzy, confused. "I don't understand why you're doing this!" I cried. Why was he pushing me away?

"I have to Claire. It's—it's the only way I can keep you safe. My world… it's not right for you. Just trust me when I say this is the best thing for—for both of us."

Was that all he was afraid of? That one small, tiny thing….

"But Quil, I've told you a hundred times before it doesn't matter to me what you are! I don't care!"

But he was shaking his head, moving away from me, and I felt an icy fear grip my chest. It didn't have anything to do with him being a werewolf. He really didn't want me around. _The best thing for __**both**__ of us._

I stumbled backwards. The ice was spreading, numbing my entire body.

And then the rain started, icy and biting, like sharp little pebbles against my bare skin. So anti-climatic, so dramatic, so perfect. It woke me up.

The numbness was quickly being replaced with anger. It started in my ribs and spread up my chest and down my arms and legs until I _had _to move and speak and yell. I strode forward. "So what? The last twelve years don't mean anything?" I yelled, and before I knew what I was doing I had dropped my sandals and was pushing at his chest. Not that it did any good, he didn't budge an inch. It made me even angrier that I couldn't hurt him. I pushed harder and started beating my fists against him. It was like hitting a tree, useless, pointless. The tree would never ever move.

Tears ran down my face, mingling with the rain that whipped across the strait. Quil didn't try to stop me or hold me back; he just let me hit him and yell until my voice was raw and my hands throbbed painfully.

"I want to hurt you!" I screamed, beating his stone stomach harder, but I couldn't. He was bigger, stronger, and rigid. Unbreakable—unlike me. It had taken just a few little words to break me. I wanted to see the same crack, the same pain in Quil's face. "I want to hurt you!" I screamed again. I was hitting him with everything I had and it wasn't enough.

The sand shifted underneath my bare feet and I lost my balance, falling towards Quil, but he caught me and lifted me by the shoulders ever so carefully.

"Don't you touch me!" I screeched, pushing his arms away from me. They hung limply at his sides. "That's the way _you _want it!" I stood, breathing heavily, trying to stop my furious tears and get back to normal, if that was even possible now. Quil stood frozen.

I pushed my long hair off my face and looked him in the eyes, trying to make my own as intense and glaring as I could so he would know how deadly serious I was. I breathed in and out deeply. My voice was low and full of more emotion than I wanted to be there.

"_I hate you." _

Quil flinched, but stayed stonily still.

I turned, my vision blurred with tears, making me trip again in the sand. I got up quickly and ran as fast as I could down the long beach, ignoring the pain in my sides, the pain in my heart. My breath tore at my lungs and I wanted to just collapse on the sand, but I knew Quil would find me, and he would carry me back to my house. I didn't want him touching me again, or pretending that he actually cared what happened to me. That was too much, worse than the pain in my lungs, or my heart, or my red scraped hands. So I kept running, past the thundering surf, past the tourist in her car, past the houses and the people.

I wanted to run forever, away from the pain.

...

I banged into the house and slammed the screen door behind me, satisfied by the noise it made.

Luckily, no one else was home yet: Mom and dad were at work, and Colleen had been out with her friends all day. After throwing off my soaked clothes I paced angry circles around my bedroom, trying to clear my head and calm down. I breathed deeply and slowly, in and out— and the reassuring rhythm took with it the last of my anger, leaving me feeling empty and cold.

My legs couldn't hold me anymore, I'd run more than I ever had in my life and they ached, like my whole body ached. For the first time I looked down at my hands, which had been throbbing the whole run back. They were red, the knuckles and sides scraped and bleeding slightly. I just stared at them, shocked that Quil had let me hurt myself like that. Every time I'd ever wanted to do anything too dangerous he'd always pulled me back, every time I fell off my bike, magically he was there to catch me before I did too much damage. And now, he had just let me hit him, probably knowing exactly what I was doing to myself.

I hated Quil for wanting to make me hurt him. I hated him for being so strong that my little hands couldn't do any damage anyway. I hated myself for being so weak. I hated him for leaving. _When Quil calls tonight to say he's sorry,_ I thought fiercely, _I won't forgive him. _

I threw on dry clothes and went downstairs for some Neosporin and band-aids, but when I walked in to the kitchen I stopped dead in my tracks. There, by the door were my sandals, the one's I'd dropped on the beach and forgotten about. Quil had been here, in my house and he hadn't come in to apologize. The breath emptied out of my lungs in one big whoosh, and forgetting my aching hands, I ran back upstairs. Strange, but the sight of those sandals hurt more than his words. It seemed more real somehow, and the finality of it all hit me like a wrecking ball.

Quil wasn't coming back.

There would be no apologetic phone call tonight, no visit in the morning, no more visits ever.

I couldn't stop the crying now. I wasn't in control of that side of myself anymore, so I just huddled under the blankets and let it all out.

If I had never let myself fall for Quil, it wouldn't hurt so badly now. Part of me wished that I hadn't let myself go there, that far, that deep. But it was too late for wishes, and I was left in a world where Quil didn't want me. At least before, I could be near him, even if I could never have him. But now… what was I supposed to do now?

My mom found me a little while later.

"Claire?" she called quietly, standing in the doorway of my room. I tried to muffle my crying but I couldn't. I felt her perch beside me on the bed, gently stroking my back. "What happened?"

I pulled off the covers and looked at her, new tears falling in a torrent I was convinced would never stop. "Quil," I managed to choke out, and the name brought on a new round of tears.

"Oh Claire," she breathed as I threw myself into her arms.


	6. Chapter 6: Whispering

**A/N: A big thank you for all the reviews! I know everyone is upset that Quil left, but I promise I won't drag it out—time will pass for Claire, but in the next one or two chapters you'll see Quil again. Basically, it's because I'm lazy, and in order for me to get to where I want in this story, Claire needs to be a little older. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Quil didn't call that night. Or the next.

My sister Colleen took one look at me when she came home and thought I had gone crazy. "Claire, what happened?" she pleaded, crawling into my little twin bed and wrapping her arms around me. Gently, she wiped the still-wet tears off my face.

I had no more tears left to cry, and no voice left with which to tell my sister what had happened. I couldn't say _his_ name again, or tell the story and get the rush of sympathy and anger I knew she'd give. It had been bad enough telling my mother, I couldn't do it again. So I shook my head in response to her begging and turned away from her, burying my face into the pillow, wishing for the dark escape of sleep. It was the only thing that could ease the pain.

Colleen's loud stage-whisper just outside my door pulled me out of a dream the next morning. I sighed and covered my eyes against the bright sunlight that invaded my room.

"Mom what's wrong with Claire? She's been in there since yesterday! She's stopped crying, but she won't tell me anything!"

"Leave her alone Colleen. She just needs a little time."

I could feel their eyes on me and I burrowed deeper into the covers.

"Where's Quil?" Colleen hissed. Her voice was accusing, like it was his _responsibility _to be with me. The name caused an intense pang in my heart. "He's probably the only one who could make her feel better right now—"

"Shhh!" my mother whispered. "Don't you dare talk about him in front of your sister. Come on, we need to have a talk."

That's all anyone seemed to do, talk. Not in front of me of course, but in careful whispered conversations, shooting sideways glances at me to make sure I wasn't listening. But I heard what they said though. Quil… Quil used to say I could hear a whisper two rooms away.

Eventually, I had to leave my bedroom. I didn't want to—I wanted to stay there forever and pretend it had all been a horrible nightmare, but it made me feel like a child hiding from monsters, as if not facing the outside world somehow made it less real. I was almost fourteen, too old for all that now.

Colleen was relieved when I emerged. My dad was oblivious, which made everything easier. As I silently ate breakfast across the table from him, I wondered how much he_ did_ know, or if he was happier with his head in the sand. We had a lot in common I realized. My mom, of course, still wasn't convinced I was well, but she didn't bring up our conversation again for which I was grateful. She was treating me like I was more fragile than glass, like even the most well- intentioned words would shatter me.

Of course, that didn't mean that the talking stopped, or that I stopped hearing.

I didn't want to go to my fourteenth birthday party—I wanted to forget that I even had a birthday. What was the point of getting older now? I wasn't trying to catch up to anyone anymore. I felt bad for my mom, who had put so much effort into making it a special day for me, but I knew I couldn't face it. She thought it would be good for me, but in the end, she canceled it like I asked her to. The day passed quietly, empty of everything that used to make my birthdays so fun.

I would have to get used to the feeling.

"She's ok; still missing him of course," my mother murmured into the phone. _Probably talking to Aunt Emily again, _I thought, as I crept into the house. Part of me wanted to run and hide in my room, while the other part kept my feet firmly planted on the spot, eager to hear more.

Because they always talked about _him. _

"I don't understand why, Emily. It must be so hard. I never thought he'd leave: I didn't think he even _could._" My mother's words stung; I never thought Quil could leave either. Obviously, we were both wrong. She sighed and paused, letting Emily talk. "Oh I know, but Kim's going to be okay, thank God they got there in time."

I frowned at the turn the conversation had taken. Had something happened to Kim? Was she sick? Hurt? I thought back over the last few days, trying to remember. The only thing I could think of was Quil's odd behavior and his one, short phone call… It made sense though, he and Kim were friends and if something happened to her he would have been worried. But why hadn't he told me?

My mother's voice pulled me back from my thoughts. "But frankly Emily, I feel safer with him around." She let out another frustrated sigh. "I realize—but I'm worried about Claire. She's stopped crying and she's_ trying_… but she's so quiet." My mother's voice was almost angry when she spoke again. "Does he know what this is doing to her? She hardly talks about anything now and I'm afraid she won't get over it. Whatever his intentions, this has hit her harder than he was expecting and I don't know what to do!"

I crept forward; trying to hear better but a loud squeak of the floorboards gave me away.

"Claire!" my mother said, startled and blushing in embarrassment at being caught. She looked at me sharply for a few seconds trying to guess how much I'd heard, but I kept my face blank and walked into the kitchen and left her to her now neutral conversation.

Just a few minutes later she joined me in the kitchen. "You're home early, I thought you were spending the afternoon with Katie?" my mother asked after hanging up the phone.

I shrugged. "I didn't feel like staying." I finished pouring myself some cereal and sat at the kitchen table, quietly eating even though I wasn't hungry.

She sighed and came to stand beside me, brushing the hair off my face. "Claire, you can't do this."

"Do what?" I feigned confusion.

"You know what," she said seriously. "It's not good for you." I looked up at her concerned face.

"Do you—" I stumbled over the words and had to take a deep breath to calm myself. "Do you think he's ever coming back?"

Pity suffused my mother's face. "Oh Claire, I can't answer that. Who knows. Wait and see huh?"

Wait and see. Was that supposed to be my life now?

That afternoon, I went upstairs to my bedroom and looked at it closely for the first time in a long time. It was a small room—wooden floors, a twin bed, blue walls—but I'd always thought it looked like me, expressed my style perfectly. But as I looked, I saw something else.

Everywhere, on every surface were things that reminded me of _him. _It made me feel claustrophobic, like someone was squeezing my chest, causing my bones to snap. But this was _my_ room, _my_ place, and Quil didn't want to be part of it anymore. I stumbled downstairs and found the biggest cardboard box I could in the basement, feeling the anger that came in waves along with sadness, rise up through my chest. It made me feel stronger, as if it would hurt less to do what I was about to do. Taking a deep breath, I stood in the center of the room and let my eyes fall on it all.

On my bed was the doll Quil had given me—the only one that survived the massive cleaning that had taken place when I was ten and decided I was too old for things like dolls. On the dresser was a big jar of milky blue and green sea glass; I was nine when I told him I was collecting and every visit afterwards for months he had a piece or two for me until the jar was full. Half of the books in the bookcase were from him, all of my well-worn favorites. The poster on my wall was of a band Quil had made fun of me mercilessly for liking, so just to annoy him I'd kept it up even after I'd gotten over them. But just to annoy _me, _he'd kept on teasing… Every place in my small room brought back a memory.

My box was not big enough.

I closed my eyes for a few minutes, forcing myself to stay calm, trying to take deep even breaths. I knew I could never put it all away; my family would definitely think I'd gone crazy if I tried to tear everything out. Instead, I'd have to settle for the things that hurt the most and learn to live with the rest.

In went the sea glass, and the doll. The grey-blue shirt that Quil said matched my eyes went in next. He'd called me pretty that one time I wore it, and I'd been high off that compliment for weeks. My eyes fell on the sandals where I'd thrown them into the corner of the room, and I stared at them for a few long seconds. Quickly, I grabbed them and threw them into the trash, hoping I'd never think about them again.

As I tore through my bookshelf, throwing a few of my favorite, most worn books into the box, I found the photo album my mother had made during one of her odd kicks. My whole life was in there, beginning with me as a newborn baby to me six months ago… which meant Quil was in there too. Quickly, I flipped through the first few pages and stopped at the first picture that had ever been taken of us together. He looked completely out of his depth, as he held a crying toddler. I felt the corners of my mouth tug upwards in a smile at the overwhelmed look on his face, but I clamped down on it, and slid the picture out of its plastic covering and onto the floor beside me.

As I flipped through the book, I realized how much a part of my life he'd been. _There_ was his hand, steadying me while I took a few wobbly steps—his shadow at the edge of the picture—his sweatshirt draped around my shoulders keeping me warm. I pulled out each and every picture; I wanted no reminders.

And then, my eyes fell on one of my favorite photos. I remembered the day it was taken perfectly, though I'd only been six or seven at the time. A warmer than usual summer afternoon spent swimming down in La Push with my Aunt, Colleen, Quil, Seth and Embry. After a whole day I was exhausted and cold, but Colleen didn't want to leave, so I huddled unhappily on the stony beach. Without even having to ask, Quil knew. He'd slung a towel around me and pulled me up into his arms, and suddenly warm, I'd laid my head back on his shoulder and we watched the sun set together. In the picture, I was looking down at my hands, telling some silly, rambling story. His head was bent towards me, listening closely.

I knew exactly the expression in his eyes. It was _my _look. For me only. Mine.

I'd never seen him look at anyone else that way. Ever. A mixture of fierce protectiveness, calm patience, gentleness… and a kind of love too. Carefully, I pulled it out of the album and held it, staring at the expression I knew better than my own face. It had been completely absent the day he'd said goodbye, in its place was nothing. Just nothing. My fingers itched to tear the picture into a hundred little pieces, into confetti, since it was so obviously a lie, a reminder of everything that changed. But I set it down on the pile with the others….maybe someday it wouldn't hurt so much.

Every picture after that was like a sharp needle poking in my chest. Jared's wedding—Quil kneeling in front of me, whispering as I twisted his tie nervously; I was so afraid of tripping down the aisle, but he promised I'd be fine. School plays where he sat in the front row, his grin encouraging me. Holiday's, birthday parties, picnics. Everything.

When I got to the last page of the album, the book was practically empty. I scooped up all the discarded pictures and set them in bottom of my cardboard box. It almost scared me how easy it was to erase him. I almost wished the accompanying memories could be shoved into a box in my closet too. Almost.

I stood, squaring my shoulders as I looked around my room again. I wasn't anywhere near done…

When the taped up box was hidden in the back of my closet, and my room was looking cleaner than it had in years, I sat on the edge of my bed and took a deep breath.

Quil was gone.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7: Time Passes

It was almost eerie, the way that life continued to go on without Quil. I had been so sure, in those first few days, that the world would collapse, that the sky would fall in… that I would shatter after he left.

But I didn't. And as hard as it was, and as strange as it was, life continued.

Colleen and my mother must have told Katie what happened with Quil because she never mentioned him, or his very sudden disappearance from my life. I was thankful for that, it made it so much easier. And I was thankful for Katie too because she didn't let me "wallow." Instead, she dragged me all over the place after school and weekends—to her house, to concerts in Port Angeles with her older sisters, and to Seattle for a day of sightseeing. Katie was so good, she didn't care if I didn't want to talk all the time. She took my good moods and my bad moods together uncomplainingly.

I wished I could truly confide in her.

Sam, Emily and their kids came up to Neah Bay for Christmas, though my family normally went to La Push for the holidays. Everyone was especially careful not to mention the change in routine or the reason behind it. We pretended that it didn't feel weird, even though everyone felt the emptiness, the space that should have been filled, the laughter that should have spread through our little house. It was all different now.

I remembered other Christmases when Sam and Emily's house had been bursting with people and laughter. All through the day, Quil and his friends would sneak cookies and play pranks until Emily finally made them go outside, where, inevitably they would get into a series of muddy wrestling matches. Now… everything was quiet, stilted. Empty.

I desperately wanted to ask Sam and Emily how Quil was and what he was doing, but I didn't know how to bring it up. And, another larger part of me was afraid of looking too desperate. After those first awful days I'd been so careful not to let the hurt show, desperately trying to act like I didn't miss him at all. But Emily easily saw through the game, and she hugged me tightly when it was time for them to leave. She looked like she wanted to say something, but Sam cleared his throat and she started guiltily.

I wondered, as I watched their car drive away, what she had been going to say to me.

Was it about Quil; did she think he was doing the right thing? Was he sorry, or just stupid? Was this idiotic separation meant to last forever? Or just for now?

Could I even forgive him even if he came back and begged?

What if he never did?

Winter passed in a blurry dreary daze that didn't quite seem real. I kept waiting to wake up and have things go back to normal. I looked at my calendar, marking off each day, unconsciously noting how long it had been since Quil left. January…four months. March… seven months. May…nine months. Had it really been that long? Time passed slowly in snatches, and then sped until everything was a blur and I couldn't keep anything straight.

...

"Ugh, thank God we're done!" I exclaimed, throwing my backpack in the closet without even bothering to clean it out. Katie followed me into the house smiling.

"I thought it would never end. Is it just me, or do the last two weeks of school seem slower than the whole rest of the semester?"

I nodded in agreement, throwing myself into a kitchen chair and grabbing an apple from the bowl in the center. "At least now we have the whole summer to forget everything they taught us."

"I'm looking forward to it," Katie laughed.

And that was what we did. For an entire month we slept late every morning, had TV marathons and sleepovers. We went to the beach even though the cool weather usually meant it wasn't warm enough for swimming. And I tried to forget about more than schoolwork.

Katie tried her hardest to help me forget too.

"Claire, we're going on a double date," Katie announced, walking into my room one mid-morning.

I stared blankly up at her with sleep-blurred eyes. "_What_?"

"Come on, we have to find something to wear," she pulled me up off the bed.

"When…with who?" I managed to choke out, rubbing my eyes, hoping I was still dreaming.

"Tonight, with two guys I met at the beach this morning. Their names are Mark and Peter."

"Thanks for asking me if I wanted to," I spat bitterly. Of course, it wasn't a dream.

"Come on Claire, you've never even been out with a guy before—or even liked another guy!—you're still hung up on Quil."

I recoiled at the mention of his name; it was the first time she'd said his name to me. But I didn't stop glaring at her. "That doesn't mean that I want to go out with some stranger that you randomly picked up on the beach! What do you actually know about them?" I demanded.

"They are both sixteen, they go to the high school in Forks. They're very nice." I moaned and threw the covers over my head. "Come on Claire, what else do we have to do? It's been boring!" she whined.

"If I do this, you're going to owe me for the rest of your life!" I hissed.

That was how I somehow found myself sitting in the backseat of a car five hours later, with some guy I didn't know, desperately trying to make small talk without sounding like an idiot. In the front, Katie and Mark were laughing effortlessly. I wished desperately for my best friend's confidence.

"So how old are you Claire?" Peter asked, he looked almost as freaked out as I did. He was sort of good looking—medium height, sandy hair, and a deep tan I had no clue how he had gotten in the rainiest place in the U.S.

"Um, I'll be fifteen in October. You?"

"Just turned sixteen two weeks ago."

"Oh, happy birthday," I congratulated, my voice too weak to be really happy. After that, we lapsed into an awkward silence until Peter leaned forward in his seat and joined Katie and Mark's conversation.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment; I made myself as small as I could in the small seat, thinking longingly back to other drives when I'd been unable to stop talking. A pang of loneliness shot through me.

It was easier once we were in the restaurant. With Katie next to me, helping me out, the conversation wasn't as bad as I feared, but Peter seemed absolutely over me and I was over him as soon as I saw him eye the pretty waitress suggestively. I ate my food listlessly, picking at it without any real appetite. It tasted like sawdust in my mouth.

During the drive back, I let my mind wander while the stereo blared deafeningly loud music that gave me a headache. In my mind, I saw myself sitting in the restaurant, laughing while Quil leaned towards me, smiling too. I saw him reach across the table for my hand, holding it tightly in his big warm one, brushing a strand of hair off my face—

_No_! I couldn't let myself think like that. I couldn't measure every man, every experience against Quil. Quil was gone, and he wasn't ever coming back. What I had felt back then was infatuation. Nothing more. I fed myself the lies.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Katie asked, after Mark and Peter dropped us off at her house. We sat outside on her porch, enjoying the cool night breeze.

"You're joking right?"

"Claire!" Katie screeched. "You are seriously hopeless."

"I'm not the one who couldn't stop staring at the waitress the whole night!" I exclaimed. "Peter was kind of an ass."

Even though Katie was trying to look disapproving, a telltale grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. Finally, she gave up and giggled. "He was, wasn't he? Oh well, at least we tried. And Mark _was _nice."

"Do you think it gets any easier?" I sighed.

"Maybe…. God, sometimes I wish that you just saw someone and _bam _that's it. Done.

You've met your perfect match."

"It would certainly make my life easier. Tonight was way too awkward."

Katie shrugged. "At least tomorrow will be nice out—we can go swimming. Maybe you'll meet someone else." I rolled my eyes.

We sat there quietly for a few minutes, and I let the stillness wash over me. Katie, for all her wonderfulness, had never really understood why I liked silence so much, especially since she was so talkative. But then, no one ever really understood that side of me, the one where I liked to be alone and have time for myself. No one except for…

"Claire?" Katie's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Do you feel like… there's something watching us?" She was looking towards the long stretch of trees that lined the road on the other side of her house. I turned to look, but didn't see anything.

"No, why?"

"I dunno… just all the sudden I felt like something was watching us." She looked at the woods again. "I swear, there's something there.I can't hear anything, but—do you see that shadow…" her voice drifted off nervously.

I looked in the direction she was pointing to, but again, I saw nothing.

"You need to stop watching horror movies Katie, they're not good for you," I laughed.

"I'm being serious!"

I laughed again and stood up. "Ok… well, have fun with that. I'm going home now."

Her eyes popped. "Are you sure you don't want a ride?" She was still staring at the woods. "What if something really _is _out there?"

It took another five minutes of reassuring and a promise to call her when I got home—just in case—before Katie let me go.

It was easy to laugh about her irrational fears standing on her brightly lit porch, but on the road, it was a completely different story. Maybe she was right, maybe there was something… I heard leaves rustle, but the sound didn't make me afraid as I'd been expecting. Instead, I felt…curious.

A flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye startled me, but insanely enough it did not frighten me. What if… what if it was _him_?

God, I'd finally gone crazy! I was imagining things that weren't there, and even worse, I was imagining that _someone _was there. But even as I internally berated myself, an odd burning hope was rising through my chest. Walking slowly, right at the very edge of the trees, I held out my arm and brushed my hand along the low branches of the trees overhead. The snapping, rustling sound of the leaves as my fingers moved against them felt oddly reassuring.

When I reached my house, instead of going right in, I stood for a few minutes at the extreme edge of the woods. There was no noise, but as Katie had, I still felt like something was watching me. It was not a scary or anxious feeling—more like a longing. Whatever presence it was that watched me felt achingly familiar and unthreatening. Even if it was just wishful thinking, I wanted to stand forever in the spot, and wait for whatever it was to come out and meet me.

But nothing changed. Finally, I sighed and walked inside.

...

I didn't let Katie drag me off on dates again, though she wanted to. She used all the same arguments that were in my mind, but I stubbornly ignored them. I was going to wait, I told her, until _I _met a guy who interested me. I wasn't going to force it, or endure more nights with guys like Peter. I was protecting myself.

June…July…August…

Colleen left for college in September, happy and excited. She had a _plan_, and she was going to see it through. She was finally going to get out of La Push, her lifelong dream.

For my fifteenth birthday, I let my mother throw me a party. I could tell she wanted to, and I wanted to make her happy. She'd been so good with me, so patient and calm. And even though I tried to act normal, I knew she could see through it; she knew I was suffering. When Aunt Emily saw me, she sighed and hugged me tightly and I knew that she understood too. Sam was harder to be around—he looked so much like… like _him, _especially from a distance.

I still thought of Quil often…every day if I was being honest, though I tried to tell myself that I had forgotten. That I'd moved on. That it was only a crush, silly and stupid—I was too young to feel so deeply. He wasn't nearly as perfect as I thought he was…

I fed myself the lies. I hoped that someday I would believe them.

October, November, December, January, February, March… a year and a half, two birthdays, too many missed moments. Time passes.

...

The house was quiet and completely still; the only sound in the dead calm was my mother, whispering on the phone. I frowned; it had been a very long time since there'd been whispered telephone conversations in my house. I didn't like to think about what it might mean.

"Claire," my mother called from the kitchen. "Is that you? Can you come here a second?" Calmly, I hung my heavy jacket on the newel post to dry and kicked off my boots by the heater. _It's nothing_, I told myself. _It doesn't mean anything... _But my traitorous body was giving away my apprehension. I could feel the heavy thud of my heart, pounding faster and faster as I walked towards my mother.

_What if… what if it's_ him_? _

Stupidly, I was hoping. Didn't I know by now that it was never him? My mother held out the phone to me. "It's Aunt Emily; she wants to talk to you."

Disappointment flooded me. I took the phone and tried to make my voice sound bright. "Hey Emily, what's up?"

"Hi Claire," her voice sounded strained and tired. "How are you?"

"I'm ok; I just got back from Katie's house. We watched a funny old movie."

"That's good," she sighed. I frowned, my busy Aunt was usually tired, but I had never heard her like this before. She was worried.

"Are you ok Emily? You sound exhausted."

"I'll be fine sweetie; I just didn't get much sleep last night..." She paused for a moment. "So your mother was telling me that you start April vacation next week?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's kind of the reason I'm calling. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come down to La Push for a little while and keep me company? I know you'd probably rather spend your vacation with Katie, but I- I'd really like to see you."

_Go to La Push? _It had been forever since I'd been there— I tried to remember the last time but I couldn't. Had it really been the night of the bonfire? I felt that odd familiar tinge of excitement and worry course through me. _Something's happened. _

"Of course I would! When do you want me to come?" I tried not to sound too eager, but I couldn't keep it out of my voice; it had been so long.

"As soon as you can Claire."

It was Wednesday, I realized. Disappointment surged through me. How could I possibly get through the next two days with the prospect of visiting La Push ahead of me? There was no way that I'd survive the suspense…and the hope.

I frowned again. "Are you sure nothing's wrong Emily?" There was a pause, and then a sigh, _you'll find out soon enough_, it seemed to say.

"Don't worry about it Claire. Why don't you put your mom back on, and we can make arrangements. Do you think she'd mind if missed a little school?"

My heart leapt. "I'd come right now if you wanted me to."

Emily laughed sadly, and when she spoke, she seemed to be talking to herself. "I- I think that might be best. But we'll see what your mother has to say."

"I'll see you," I promised, and handed the phone to my mom. I listened anxiously while they talked a few more minutes, pleading mentally with my mom to let me go tonight. Still, I wasn't holding out much hope: my mother was strict when it came to school— which was why I almost fell out of my chair when I heard her promise to have me in La Push before seven.

"Mom, is everything ok?" I asked when she hung up. "Aunt Emily sounded… weird, and sort of distracted. And you're letting me miss school?"

She didn't say anything for a long second. "Don't worry about it Claire."

"That's what Emily said too," I complained. She smiled a little, but didn't say anything else. "I don't want to get in the way or anything, if she's busy— and it's sort of a weird time for her to call and ask for a visit, isn't it?"

My mom walked over and hugged me tightly. "It's good that you're going sweetie. Trust me; you won't be in the way. Now, go pack."

She didn't need to tell me twice. In a flash, I was out of my chair and up the stairs. Randomly, I threw miscellaneous clothes into a back- pack. A quick trip to the bathroom to get my toothbrush and shampoo, and I was back downstairs in hardly any time at all.

"Wow that was fast."

I shrugged. "I don't need much… and I miss Emily, and my cousins. I haven't seen them in so long."

"They were just here two weeks ago!" she exclaimed, but I knew she was only teasing. Maybe my mother wasn't great at cooking, but she _understood _me_. _Too well sometimes.

"If you're ready, we might as well get going," she sighed. I caught an odd look in her eyes, it reaffirmed that something strange was going on.

But, whatever it was could not dim my excitement. Finally, I was going back to La Push. I would see First Beach again, and Kim, Seth, Embry…

And maybe, just maybe, I would see Quil.

* * *

**Author's note: So, I originally meant to write more about the months that Quil and Claire spent apart, but it was so _boring _that I gave up and skipped over most of it. I'm not thrilled with this chapter, but hopefully it gives you some idea of what happened. I promise the next chapter will be much more exciting! ;-)**

**Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8: Ache

**  
Almost a hundred reviews?? Are you guys serious?****This was just a little story I started writing for myself, I had no clue if anyone would even like it—seriously, I thought it would be cool if I got a hundred reviews total! But to reach that goal not even halfway through the story… wow! Thank you so much! **

**So, to show my appreciation, here's chapter 8. I hope you like it :D**

* * *

It took a little less than an hour and a half to drive from Neah Bay to La Push.

It was a typical cold, rainy April evening, and through the car window everything passed in a dizzying blur of grey and green. I laid my forehead against the cool glass, trying to keep myself calm. I didn't talk much—I couldn't. There was too much to think about, like _why_ Emily had called me so suddenly out of the blue and what it might mean. And Quil. Of course, I thought about him, I _always _thought about him. And now that there was the possibility of seeing him again….

I didn't know exactly how I felt about it. After all, Quil had pushed me away, he'd _left. _

He promised me that I would never see him again.

A very painful ache was starting to rise in my chest, and my stomach filled with butterflies as we pulled off the highway and onto the road that would take us to La Push. And mixed with the ache was a little bubble of impatience that built in my stomach, until I was tapping my fingers nervously on the seat.

"We're almost there Claire," my mother comforted.

"I know." But my fingers didn't stop moving.

When we finally pulled up to a wonderfully familiar little house that I hadn't seen in what felt like ages, I was unbuckled and out the door before the car was even turned off. My aunt stood waiting for us on the little porch. Emily smiled when I ran towards her and threw myself into her arms. She hugged me back, laughing lightly, but even in my happiness I had not missed the worried look in her eyes. I pulled back slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of it again, but her scarred face was carefully composed.

I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but before I could, she turned away to my mother, who was walking up the steps behind me with my bag. "You were quick; I wasn't expecting you for another half an hour!"

"Claire was anxious to get here," my mother explained. I blushed; I'd been hoping I hadn't been quite so obvious. Quickly, I grabbed my bag and ran into the house up to the small spare bedroom where I always slept during my visits.

It felt surreal to be back in Emily's house. I looked around the little room that

hadn't changed at all since the last time I'd been in it, and all I could think was how much

_I _had changed. Did I still fit in the place I'd so easily assumed as a child? Was it possible to fit without Quil? Only time would tell.

"Bye Claire," mom whispered to me when I came back down after putting my things away and saying hello to my two little cousins. She hugged me close. "I'll call you tomorrow after you've been settled for awhile." She kissed my cheek. "Be good."

"Always," I replied, and stood on the step, waving as she drove away.

"So how about some dinner?" Emily asked, leading me towards the kitchen when we couldn't see my mother's care anymore. "I saved some for you."

She didn't give me much time to talk as she busied herself with putting together a plate for me. She chattered about the play the elementary school was putting on, and then about the weather. I wanted to ask her what she and my mother had been talking about while I was upstairs; I had heard them whispering in the hallway, but she never let up her constant stream of conversation, or stopped moving around the small kitchen, even after she'd gotten my dinner ready

It was all very odd; I had never seen my aunt act like this before, or felt the strange anxious anticipation that hung heavily in the air around us. Sometimes, I'd catch Emily looking at me weirdly, and she was constantly checking her watch, or shooting looks at the telephone, as if expecting it to ring any second. She was easily distracted, startled by every little noise.

"Emily, are you ok?" I asked when she finally stopped to take a breath.

"I'm fine Claire," she said too quickly. I was about to protest, when I heard the sound of the front door closing. Emily was on her feet instantly.

"Claire," Sam said softly when he walked in and saw me sitting at the table. He leaned down to give me a hug, but like Emily, the smile didn't reach his eyes. He walked over to his wife and whispered something into her ear; her body tensed.

"Will you please tell me what's going on?" I asked suddenly, not able to take the tension any longer. I watched Sam and Emily's nervous faces; their expressions gave them away instantly. "I know something's up—_please _don't tell me everything fine. I know it's not. Everyone's been whispering around me all day and acting so strange!"

My aunt and uncle exchanged a glance, but before they could say a word, the sound of the door opening and closing again broke the stillness. Three enormous men walked in to the little kitchen, their faces grim. My heart jumped erratically. I hadn't seen them in over a year but I remembered them perfectly: Jared, looking exhausted and serious, and with him Embry, looking just as tired. For a fraction of a second, I thought Quil was with them—they all looked so alike, but it was only Seth. Disappointment lanced through me, and oddly enough, relief. What would I have said if it _had _been him?

They each nodded at me and said hello, keeping their heads down after one quick, grim look to Sam. It was unlike them to be so quiet and subdued, especially with me. It had been so long since we'd seen each other, weren't they happy to see me? Had the time apart really changed so much? And why was everyone acting so strange? First my mother, then Emily and Sam, and now them—the whole world was upside down, and there was only one possible conclusion I could see.

"Is this about…" I took a deep breath. "Is this about the werewolf thing?" I hadn't spoken of that conversation with anyone but Quil. Ever. And not at all since he left. Part of me wondered if that whole bonfire was a made up dream—a wonderful dream—just like Quil. But I had the pictures, and the memories. I'd held onto them as tightly as I could.

Their silence answered my question.

"_What?"_ I cried, waving my hands. Emily and Sam continued to watch me, pity on their faces too. No one said a word. I bit my lip nervously, as an icy fist gripped my chest. "Does this… does this have anything to do with Quil?" Emily's head shot towards Sam, as did everyone else's. My heart plummeted into my stomach.

Quil…

"That's enough of this," Emily said suddenly, sharply, her voice cutting through the stillness in the room. Her gaze caught mine, "I'm so sorry honey, I know I've been terrible, we all have." She took a deep breath and smiled sadly. "I didn't want to keep this from you but I've been thinking of you as a little girl—easily distracted and kept out of things, and that's not fair. You _need _to know." She stood and grabbed our raincoats and boots. "Come on, we're going for a walk."

The rain had left the air cool and soft; the clouds were fading, letting little clusters of starlight shine through.

"I should have known that you'd put it all together. I wasn't sure if you'd still believe those stories Quil told you," Emily said, threading her arm through mine as we started walk.

"Of course I do! And I remember everything—" I began, before blushing furiously. I wasn't supposed to let other people know how much I thought of him. Emily only smiled.

"Of course you do," she agreed, "and it makes it all so much easier to explain things. I should have just told you everything when you got here today but Sam wanted me to wait a bit, to really make sure…." Emily's arm held me tighter. "Claire, last night Quil was hurt when he was out patrolling with the pack."

"By vampires?" I felt strange using the word; for most of my life, I'd thought they were just a myth, and even though I knew different now, it was bizarre. Emily nodded. Desperately, I tried to reassure myself. "But Quil told me he heals really fast—I remember once he cut himself making dinner, and you couldn't even tell where it had happened by desert—"

Emily nodded. "This is more than just a little cut. We've got a doctor, someone we can trust who knows about us, and he says it looks bad for Quil."

"How bad?"

"Really bad," Emily replied with a sharp intake of breath. Her voice was very small and strained. "He could die Claire."

"I want to see him," was all I said. I began walking even faster, against that horrible ache that had started behind my ribs, even though I didn't know where Emily was taking me.

"I know. Come on, he's right over here."

I didn't see the little grey house, or Sam, Jared, Seth and Embry, who had somehow beaten us there. I didn't notice the people who sat in the little living room get up and leave as soon as I walked in. I could only think of one thing.

"Where?"

Emily pointed to the door at the end of the hallway.

It had been so long since I'd seen him. And it had been such a quiet, boring year without his jokes and laughter, without him to play with, or to tell secrets to. Time that only seemed half-lived because my best friend wasn't with me. But as I stood in the doorway and saw him lying asleep, arms outstretched on the bed, it felt like no time had passed at all. He looked exactly as I remembered, though his beautiful russet skin was ashy and his lips were drawn tight together. But I knew at that exact moment that that year had left no awkwardness or distance between us.

I had already forgiven him.

Something in me collapsed when I saw him, some wall I'd tried so hard to keep upright crashed down around me in broken, shattered fragments. Quil's hand was cool in mine; I remembered how I used to wonder why he was always so warm and how he'd roared with

laughter when I asked him. There was none of that warmth there now. He was so still, so deathly still. I wanted desperately to see him move, just for reassurance. I studied his chest, watching it rise and fall slowly. There were several long red marks along his face and bandages all around his shoulder.

Emily's words echoed in my head. _He could die._

"Quil," I whispered, gripping his hand tighter, trying not to cry. Quil, so full of life and energy and happiness, who always had a huge grin on his face and a hug for me, wasn't here. Tentatively, I reached out with my hand to touch his face, it was smooth and too cold.

"Quil," I whispered again, this time in his ear, letting my breath wash across his face. "I'm here now."

He started to stir, his eyes opened and fluttered before resting on me. I sat down beside him and held his hand in my lap.

"Claire?" His voice was hoarse and tired, but disbelieving.

I had always wondered what I would say to him if I ever saw him again. Sometimes I imagined myself getting mad and yelling at him for going away, for making that last conversation so awful—making him feel so guilty that he would never do it again. Sometimes I thought of just running into his arms, into one of those big bear hugs I missed so much. And sometimes, when I was so lonely and missing him, I imagined myself ignoring him completely. Pretending like he didn't exist, so he would see how much he hurt me.

Now, all I could do was look at him as he woke, watching his expression change as he realized I was really next to him. "Claire," he said again, but his tone was entirely different—flat, resigned. But he was holding on to my hand tightly and his eyes were fixed on me like he couldn't look away.

"How are you?" I asked, feeling stupid. He was obviously in pain, every move made him wince, and his breathing was faint yet hard. He shrugged.

I scooted forward on the bed and hesitantly reached out to touch his shoulder. "I missed you," I whispered.

He gave a weak grimace and squeezed my hand. "I'm sorry."

Quil reached out to touch my face; his hand was trembling with the effort. I caught it in my own and held it to my cheek as his thumb moved across my skin and brushed my hair. He sighed. Before I could stop myself, or register what I was doing, I threw myself into his arms, being careful not to hurt him, but holding on as tightly as I could. I didn't care that it wasn't the right time, that he was in pain or dying—because if he really was, then this could be my last chance. The words tumbled out of my mouth.

"Why did you leave me? Why did you need time alone? Did I—did I do something?" He held me tightly, brushing the hair off my face.

"Claire, Claire—" he murmured quietly, lifting my chin so we were face to face. He was hesitant. "I'm so sorry that I hurt you, I didn't want to… you have to understand… I was only doing what was best for you, I was trying to keep you safe!" I held him tighter, as tears started to fall wetly across my cheek. He whispered into my hair, his voice was rough.

"Leaving was the hardest thing I've ever done; I thought about you _every_ day, I missed you every day." His hands were in my hair and they felt warmer than before against my skin. He muttered something I couldn't hear.

It was too much, to have Quil like this, to have him back and know that this might be the last time I saw him, to hear him apologize and know that it had hurt him too when he left me. I sobbed harder, burying my face in his neck, breathing in that woodsy earthy smell that made me feel like I was five years old again.

"Please don't leave me; I don't want to lose you!" I begged raising my head so I could see his hazel eyes, now green in the soft light.

"I love you Quil," I whispered and kissed his cheek.

His body went completely still under me for the briefest second, then the shaking started. Only it wasn't like the trembling of his hand earlier: his whole body shook violently. He moaned and shut his eyes tightly, his face darkening with effort. His hands grasped me tightly by the shoulders as he pushed me away from him. "Please," he panted. "Please go—just go Claire."

The door banged open and Jared and Embry, who must have been standing just outside filled the room. Embry picked me up like I weighed nothing and set me in the doorway.

"Go stay with Emily, Claire," he said sharply, and turned back to Quil, who was shaking even harder now. But I didn't leave, and no one noticed me where I stood in the doorway.

"Calm down man, this isn't good for you." Jared was holding Quil's arms as he thrashed, his whole body in violent motion.

"Why did you bring her here!" Quil roared, his voice aching with pain. I stood transfixed, unable to move at the need in his voice. "I don't want to see her now, see everything that I'll be missing—hear her tell me that she loves me, when—I—can't—_have her!"_

Suddenly, and so quickly that if I hadn't been looking straight at him I would have missed it, Quil exploded.

And in the place where Quil had stood, was an enormous chocolate brown wolf.

My mouth fell open in shock.

* * *

**Not another cliffhanger!... sorry, I couldn't resist, they're just too much fun to write. **

**I want to reassure all my readers that I will continue to update this story—at least once or twice a week—until it is done. I'm not exactly sure how long it will be, but I think it should end up somewhere around 25 chapters. And afterwards I'll be writing a quick one-shot in Quil's POV. **

**If you like it, please review!  
**


	9. Chapter 9: Promises

**Author's Note: So, some of you were a little confused about what Quil meant at the end of the last chapter when he said he couldn't have Claire. Basically, Quil is pretty certain he's going to die at this point… maybe he even wants to—after all, death is much easier to accept than living a life without Claire. When he sees her again, still believing he doesn't have much time left, it's just too overwhelming for him and he phases. **

**I really like this chapter, but be prepared for some drama!**

* * *

_Suddenly, and so quickly that if I hadn't been looking straight at him I would have missed it, Quil exploded._

_And in the place where Quil had stood, was an enormous chocolate brown wolf._

_My mouth fell open in shock._

He was as big as a horse. He took up the whole room, which was suddenly littered with shreds of ruined clothing and sheets. A long, vivid red gash ran along Jared's shoulder and Embry looked no better off, but didn't see them. I had eyes for only one thing.

His huge teeth snapped viciously and his deep growls filled the whole room; he strained, thrashing against Jared and Embry's hold.

I was frozen, unable to move at the sight of this- this werewolf… In all my imaginings, I had never pictured what stood before me now.

Hesitantly, I stepped forward, surprised at my own boldness. "Quil?" I asked uncertainly, hating how shaky my voice sounded. It was so quiet, barely a whisper but Quil heard me and froze instantly, slinking down into a sitting position on the too small bed. Embry's head snapped towards me, but he didn't try to hold me back as I walked forward, cautiously holding out my hand. In the small part of my brain that wasn't completely overwhelmed, I wondered why I wasn't more afraid.

It was his eyes. Hazel, and so human and apologetic, and so _pained, _that I couldn't _not_ go to him, couldn't _not_ touch him. Quil's dark fur was rough silk against my fingertips, and he leaned in to the touch, moving slowly so he wouldn't scare me.

I buried my fingertips in the fur on his neck and leaned forward, "I'm not afraid of you," I whispered, knowing it was the truth. For one all too brief second, our eyes met.

And then Emily's voice was in my ear, and her hand was on my shoulder. "Come on Claire." I didn't want to let go of Quil, but Emily gently unthreaded my fingers from his fur and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me out of the room.

"Sam's with him now," she said gently, and I looked back to see my uncle standing in the spot where I had just been.

Emily led me to the kitchen, and set me down at the table before handing me a mug of steaming tea. "Are youok?" she asked worriedly. "Quil wouldn't have wanted you to see that."

"I'm fine," I answered, sipping the tea even though I really didn't want it.

There were a million different questions on the tip of my tongue, but before I could open my mouth to ask any of them, the door opened and a tall blond figure entered the room.

I looked up at him confused, sure that I had never seen anyone like him in my entire life.

He was eyeing me curiously as well, but my mind didn't have time to register that fact. My mouth fell open in shock as I took in the man's face; never before in my entire life had I seen someone so breathtakingly beautiful. So perfect. My mind forgot how to function for a few seconds as I stared unashamedly. He smiled down at me, completely unconcerned with my blatant ogling. With a face like that I realized, he probably left women speechless daily.

"Claire, this is Dr. Carlisle Cullen," Emily introduced. " He's the one who has been treating Quil."

_Cullen_. The name snapped me out of my funk. Vaguely, I remembered hearing the name before… but I couldn't remember where. I knew the answer was right there, at the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't find it. I looked closer at the man's inhumanely perfect face; saw his paleness and the dark purplish circles underneath his oddly golden eyes. Something clicked.

"You're a _vampire_," I spat bitterly.

"Claire!" Emily reprimanded, but Carlisle held up his hand.

His voice was soft and regretful. "She has every right to be angry Emily, I won't deny that my kind has inflicted the worst kind of damage here." He turned to me, real sadness in his eyes. "I'm sincerely sorry for what has happened to Quil, Claire. I promise I'm doing everything I can to help him."

I looked up at him, wanting to hate him, or at least to be _afraid _of him like any rational person would be, but I couldn't. There was something very compassionate and… sincere about him.

And if he could save Quil….

"Is he going to be alright?" I asked, desperation tingeing my words. "Emily said it's really bad."

Carlisle nodded gravely. "There was a lot of damage to his internal organs, more I think, than even his accelerated healing can repair, and if he didn't have that he would've died instantly. As stands now—it's the only thing keeping him alive."

"How long…?" I began, though I really didn't want to know the answer.

Carlisle shrugged, and he sounded frustrated when he spoke. "I don't know. Hours, days? I don't know enough about werewolf physiognomy. I've done my best, but I'm afraid he's beyond my skill. What he needs is a miracle."

Embry emerged from the hallway. A streak of dried blood and torn fabric was all that was left of the scratches Quil had left. He and Carlisle looked at each other for a moment, having a wordless conversation with their eyes. Embry gave him a small, anxious smile.

"Thank you so much Carlisle," Emily said, breaking the silence. Unbelievably, she walked up to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know what we would have done without you."

He smiled sadly and patted her hand. "I only wish I could do more," he sighed. "I should go check on him and make sure his outburst didn't do any more damage." He left, walking quickly, gracefully down the hall.

"He's…he's not like other vampires, is he?" I asked finally a few moments after he left. Embry snorted.

"No he isn't," Emily answered. "You've heard the stories: he and his… family, they don't drink human blood. It makes them different than the rest. More civilized I suppose. They have been good friends to us, and when Quil came back so badly hurt, well, it's not like we could call the regular doctor."

Out of the corner of my eye, I was watching Embry, whose face had crumpled the second I had looked away. I could see the despair written all over him. Despair over Quil, I realized. He didn't speak, but turned and walked out of the room. A few seconds later I heard the front door slam. Emily sighed.

Our heads snapped up at the loud yell that came from the bedroom. I was on my feet instantly, but Emily put a hand on my wrist, holding me back.

"Aunt Emily," I asked haltingly as I sat back down. "Why did you ask me to come to La Push—don't get me wrong, I'm glad you did, but… you heard Quil, he said doesn't want me here."

"Quil needed to see you again, whether he knew it or not. And…you needed to see him again too."

I buried my face in my hands at the unspoken implication. _For the last time. _Emily rubbed my back.

"Why did he leave me?" I moaned, the tears falling again. "He said it was to keep me safe, that it was for my own good! But doesn't he know—" I couldn't finish the sentence, not to Aunt Emily, not to anyone. She held me tightly as I sobbed into her shoulder.

_Doesn't he know that I don't want to live without him? _

"Oh Claire." She brushed the hair off my face. "It was so hard for him, but he felt he had to. You were just thirteen; he didn't know how bad it would be for you. And then after… well, he believed he was doing the right thing."

"It can't have been _that _hard for him, he stayed away for a year and a half!" I cried. It was so easy to pour out my anger at him for leaving me, to focus solely on that, rather than the fear that was welling up inside me. Emily knew, and she didn't say anything, only stroked my back and let me sob.

When I couldn't cry anymore, Emily took a wet cloth and wiped all the tears off my cheeks.

She took my face in her hands. Her voice was firm. "Listen to me Claire. The only reason Quil left the first time is that he was so afraid you'd get hurt because of what he is. What he does. No one ever told you, but Kim came very, _very _close to a vampire, and not a good one like Carlisle. Luckily, the pack got to her in time, but it freaked everyone out. All the guys took a good long look at what mattered most to them, and some of them made some tough choices.

"But if you think it didn't tear Quil in two when he left…." She shook her head. "He did what he thought was best. And it's broken him every day since." She exhaled, and let go of my face, becoming sweet, kind, exhausted Aunt Emily again. "That's why I asked you here Claire. He's given up, he doesn't care if he lives or dies anymore—I think he believes it's inevitable, that there's nothing he can do, so he hasn't been trying as hard as he can, with everything he has, to survive. But he needs to be reminded of what he has to live for."

"But Carlisle," I began. "Carlisle said…." I could hardly say it aloud._ He said there's no hope. _

"There are bigger things at work here."

I stared at her, digesting the words.

A door closed and Sam, Jared and Carlisle came quietly down the hall. "He's asleep now," Sam said. Emily turned to Carlisle.

"Sam was able to get him to phase back, and luckily he didn't do any extra damage," Carlisle said quietly. "But I'll be here all night to keep my eye on him."

"We'll all be here too," Sam agreed.

"Come on Claire, we should get home, you need some sleep." Emily wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

"But—" I tried to argue, but Sam cut me off.

"We'll call ifanything happens."

"And I'll bring you over first thing in the morning," Emily reassured as she started to lead me out of the house. We walked through the living room where it seemed the whole pack had congregated. That made me feel a little better at least. He was safe, and he was with people who loved him, even if it wasn't the way I loved him.

I thought sleep would be impossible that night, but as soon as my head hit the pillow, I passed out and slept deeply and dreamless for the rest of the night.

...

The soft sun washed my room in pale light through the thin muslin curtains when I woke. I took a deep breath and let it wash over me; it made me feel peaceful and quiet, like nothing bad had ever happened.

Then I remembered Quil—Quil lying on the bed, so pale and _cold._ His hands in my hair, the words that he said. Quil screaming and shaking.

Quil dying.

I took a deep breath and pushed back the covers and walked quickly down the hall to the bathroom. The image in the mirror scared me: my long dark brown hair was wild, my eyes puffy from all the crying. I took a quick shower, and then brushed my hair until it was smooth and braided it loosely. Part of me didn't want to go downstairs—it was easier to stay in my room _not_ knowing, then leave and know for sure. But the sooner I did, the sooner I would see him again, and I needed that badly.

Emily was in the kitchen, baking her famous muffins; she gave me a quick smile when I entered and handed me a glass of milk.

"Have you heard anything?" I asked quietly, biting into a muffin.

"Sam was here an hour ago, he said that there's been no change."

"Can I go see him?"

"Of course. I have to stay with the kids this morning, but you remember how to get there don't you?" I nodded; I'd paid special attention on the walk back to Emily's. "Sam will be there all day."

I fidgeted in my seat. "Can I go now?" Emily nodded, and smiled when I gulped down the milk and ran to the door, sliding into my rain boots.

"Finish that muffin!" she called after me as the screen door banged shut.

Everything looked different in the rare sunlight. The swiftly fading mist that blew in off the ocean shimmered in the light, casting rainbows. It was still very early and not many people were out yet. I liked it better that way, the quietness of it gave me time to think freely, knowing no one was watching.

The little grey house was completely still. I stood for a second outside the front door, realizing that no noise came from within. I didn't know if that was reassuring or not.

"Come in Claire," a voice called, ending my hesitation. Sam was standing in the kitchen with Seth and Leah.

"Anything new?" I asked, feeling suddenly shy. Sam smiled and shook his head. "Can I go see him?"

"He's sleeping now, but you can go look if you want. Just be extra quiet."

The house was unfamiliar, but my feet knew where to go.

Quil lay huddled on the bed, his face was ashen, sweat glistened off his skin and the long gashes on his face and shoulders didn't look any more healed than they had the night before. I reached out with timid fingers to his face but pulled them away quickly. He was icy, even colder than he had been the day before. More than anything else, that scared me. I stood there for a few long minutes, staring, and the more I saw, the more afraid I became.

When I returned to the kitchen, Seth was gone and Sam and Leah were sitting on opposite sides of the table, not speaking. I sat down beside Sam and started nibbling again on the muffin that I'd brought with me from Aunt Emily's while Sam absently stirred his cup of coffee. Leah's attention was fixed firmly at a spot on the floor; I wondered what she was thinking about.

She was beautiful, I realized as I watched her, but it was a wintry sort of beauty, very reserved and cold. Technically Leah and I were related—she was my mother's second cousin, but I had never spent much time with her. She had moved away from La Push to Seattle a long time ago, so I rarely ever saw her. There was a story there that my mother had hinted at, but I'd never been let in on it.

I pushed those thoughts from my mind; there were other questions I needed answers to.

"Sam?" He raised his eyes towards me as I took a deep breath. "How did this happen, how did Quil get hurt?—Emily only told me that he was with the pack." Something flickered across my uncle's face. He lowered his eyes again. "She said it was vampires?"

Sam nodded. "It was a group of four, cutting through the rez. We were caught by surprise; it's been years since we've seen so many vampires here, not since before the Cullen's left. Usually they don't travel in groups so large."

He reached out his hand to touch mine. His voice was apologetic. "It was my fault, one of the leeches was smaller than the rest and it slipped away in the commotion. Quil went after it and I didn't notice until it was too late. He had chased it to our border when he finally caught up and started the fight. The little thing was tough and fast, and we were all too busy finishing the rest off to get to him quick enough.

"When we did, Quil was mess; I thought he was dead for a second." Sam buried his face in his hands.

"What happened to the vampire?"

Sam raised his head and gave a sardonic smile. "Quil got it, of course."

"You couldn't have done anything Sam," Leah said quietly.

"I could have called him back!"

"And let the bloodsucker escape and hunt more innocent humans? On our families?" She shook her head. "Come on Sam, this is why we're here, what we're made for. We all know the risks."

Sam was looking at me guiltily for a reason I couldn't fathom. "Still doesn't make it right," he muttered. Leah looked at me for a minute, pity in her eyes too.

"Of course not. But we should all know by now, nothing is ever fair."

...

I spent the whole day in that little house, watching while members of the pack came and went all morning. I learned that Sam had a patrol out, keeping watch to make sure no more vampires entered the territory.

I kept out of everyone's way and sat on the floor in Quil's room, in a little corner where I wouldn't be noticed. All I could do was watch as he tossed and turned and moaned in pain, but never woke up. Carlisle came and went all day too, changing bandages, administering more morphine—each time leaving with a grim look on his face. I heard him whispering to Sam that it wouldn't be long now.

One by one they came into the little room— Embry, Leah, Seth, Jared, Paul, Collin and

Brady—too many others to count, and told Quil how much they loved him, how much they would miss him; that he more than a friend, he was a brother. One by one they walked past where I sat huddled, my arms wrapped around my knees, trying to keep it all in. No one tried to make me leave and no one spoke to me, not even Sam. All they did was look at me with the worst kind of pity in their eyes.

When Kim quietly opened the door and saw me, her eyes filled with tears. She sat for a long time beside Quil, speaking so quietly that I knew she didn't want me to overhear. But I was past caring. Anger simmered inside me.

I wanted to jump up and yell at them, at the whole viciously final situation. They were acting like he was already dead, like it was all over and there wasn't any more time! But what about Emily and her _there are bigger things _speech? Quil wasn't dead yet, no matter what Carlisle or anyone said. But I couldn't yell it out, so I just pulled my knees tighter to my chest.

Emily was the last to come in, appropriate, since she seemed to be the mother of the pack. She stroked Quil's cheek and leaned down to whisper in his ear. I only caught a little of what she said to him, but it sounded something like "—I'll take care of her for you, I'll make sure she's happy." Then she turned her gaze to me and pulled me up off the floor.

"Time to say goodbye to him Claire," she said in a quiet, sorrowful voice. The anger that had been rising in me all day burst and I shrugged out of Emily's arms, livid that she believed it too.

"No! He's _not _going to die," I whispered fiercely. "He's not. I won't say goodbye!"

Emily pulled me into a hug as my eyes blurred. Her voice was soft and sweet. "Just tell him what you feel then."

She left, closing the door behind her; the only sound in the room was Quil's faint, shaky breathing. My legs were like stone, I couldn't make them walk over to him. Tears were pouring down my face and they wouldn't stop, but they were quiet tears at least.

What could I say to Quil? How could I tell him what he meant to me? The year apart had changed nothing. I still loved him, I would always love him. I knew it with certainty. Being this close to him again, hearing his voice, feeling his touch, had brought it all back. Slowly, my leaden feet began to move towards him until I stood at the edge of the bed. My knees buckled and I collapsed next to him, burying my face in the sheets at his side.

"How am I supposed to do this?" I whispered. "How am I supposed to say goodbye to you?" I crawled up onto the bed beside him and wrapped my arms around him.

"Quil," I called, but he didn't stir. "Quil!" I said again more forcefully this time. I didn't know what I was expecting—certainly not that he would open his eyes, but something in me was telling me I had to. That if he was going to wake up now, it would be _my _voice that called him back.

His hand twitched, making me gasp in surprise. I whispered his name again and his eyes opened, blinking slowly. I didn't bother wondering why, only wrapped myself even tighter around him.

"Claire." His voice was rough and groggy, but his eyes were focused, unmoving on mine.

"Quil, you can't do this, you can't leave me," my voice was pleading…desperate.

"I'm—I'm not sure I have a choice Claire."

"Yes you do! You can fight—the way you fought that vampire, with everything you have and _not_ give up. Please don't give up Quil; I can't lose you, not again, not knowing that I don't ever get you back!"

His hand came up between us bit by bit and traced the line of my neck, jaw and cheek; his thumb moved slowly wiping away my tears. "I love you Claire," he said quietly. "I'll love you forever." I caught his hand in mine and held it in place.

"If you love me Quil, promise me you won't leave me like this. Swear you won't die…. _Please!_"

His eyes were tortured, but I wouldn't back down, I couldn't. At last, he nodded slightly, exhaling one long breathy sigh.

I buried my face in his chest, pillowing my head against his un-bandaged shoulder. It seemed to me that if I could hold onto him tightly enough— keep him as close to me as possible— then I could somehow keep him from dying. And if that's what it took, I would never, ever let go.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10: Explanations

It might have been minutes or hours or days that Quil and I lay asleep together, but eventually I felt hands gently pull me away from him and carry me out of the room and put me down onto another bed. The sheets were cold and my arms missed Quil, but I fell into a deep sleep almost instantly.

The clock beside the bed read 10am when I woke up. The lovely sunlight was gone, and its place was the rainy grey that no one could escape for long. I yawned, stretching out in the bed, and as the room came into focus around me, I realized I had no clue where I was. This was not my own bedroom of course, but it wasn't the room I had claimed in Aunt Emily's house either. Then the memories came back to me.

Quil.

I was out of the room in seconds, not caring what my hair looked like or that I hadn't brushed my teeth or washed my face yet. The door to Quil's room was closed, so I pushed it open, careful to be quiet.

I stood there for a few long seconds, taking it all in. The t-shirt he'd been wearing the day before was gone and so were the heavy quilts. He was lying on his stomach on the too small bed; the only remaining sheet covering him had slipped down until it rested in the little hollow of his lower back, exposing the long line of bare muscled skin. I wanted to touch him—just to see if he was any warmer than he'd been the night before—but I didn't want to wake him, so I stayed in the doorway and let my eyes do what my hands could not. He didn't look quite as pale and deathly as he had the night before, and I took comfort in that. Seeing Quil so lifeless had scared me more than I could admit even to myself. For so long I'd known him as unbreakable, able to come through anything without so much as a scratch, seeing him otherwise was terrifying.

When I had assured myself that he looked no worse than the day before…and maybe even a tiny bit _better, _I tore my eyes off him and left. Emily and Sam were in the kitchen, talking quietly together. Their heads shot up when I entered and I ducked my head, feeling embarrassed. After all, they were probably the ones who had carried me out of Quil's arms the night before. But they didn't mention it and neither did I. After a quick bowl of cereal, Emily and I went back to their house so I could take a shower and change clothes, but I hurried back as soon as I could to the little grey house. I didn't want to miss anything.

Carlisle came towards mid-morning to check on Quil, and Emily arrived soon after with lunch for everyone. Almost the whole pack had congregated in the small living room. I felt shy and out of place, sitting with these people who were as close as a family, closer even. It was surreal being back with this group. I never thought I would be with them like this again when Quil left, never thought that I would be part of this world again.

I realized, as I sat there, listening to them talk freely with Sam about the patrols, how special it was that I knew their secret. I'd never wondered, when I was thirteen and Quil took me to that bonfire, why _I_ got to know and my sister didn't, why he trusted me so implicitly with that secret. It was even more disconcerting now, when I could see so clearly how the rest of the pack had accepted my place in the close circle as well. Not just anyone got to know their secrets—many of the Quileute's had no idea what Sam and his group really were. What was so special about me?

Just when I was thinking that I would have to ask Emily about it, Carlisle stepped into the room, and those thoughts were instantly driven out of my head.

It struck me again, his beauty. I realized that I hadn't been awake or aware enough the day before to fully appreciate how he truly striking he was—like a movie star or a model—and yet there was no warmth in him. I shivered and couldn't help but compare him to Quil and his heat and his lovely dark copper skin.

I marveled at how at ease this vampire seemed to be in a room full of werewolves and how at ease they all seemed to be with him. Only a slight wrinkle of everyone's nose against some imperceptible smell gave it away. Carlisle smiled at everyone's expectant faces.

"Quil is doing better. Some of the internal damage seems to be slowly healing itself." Everyone let out a long indrawn breath and smiled. "I am not going to make any promises, but… if things continue like this, he has a chance."

"A chance?" Sam pushed.

"A good chance," Carlisle amended, his grin broadening.

As the room erupted around us, Sam turned to Emily and said quietly, "you were right." Emily only smiled and shot a smug look in my direction, but I wasn't paying enough attention to wonder about it.

I slipped quietly out of the room full of celebrating werewolves and down the hall towards Quil's open door, where I hid behind the frame so he wouldn't see me. He was on his back now, his muscled chest completely uncovered by the sheet. Where the bandages had been just a day before, there were now only long, vivid half-healed scars. His eyes were closed, but I knew he wasn't sleeping.

I stared at him, taking it all in. The way his beautiful russet skin stood out against the whiteness of the sheets, his black hair, disheveled and all over the place across his forehead, dipping down over his eyes. And then, because I couldn't help myself, my gaze went lower, to the muscles across his broad chest and abdomen. Unconsciously my fingers twitched with the need to be near him and my body moved forward with that need, but I caught myself. I leaned against the doorframe, resting my head against the cool wood.

"Get a grip," I muttered furiously.

I turned to go, but Quil's voice called me back.

"Claire?" I turned and saw him watching me; he'd pulled the sheet up to underneath his arms.

I walked over and sat on the little chair beside the bed, and for a long moment, neither of us said a word, only looked at each other. It felt like he was re-memorizing my face, just like I was with his. Then, he ducked his head and stared at his hands, which were wound tightly in the sheet. He looked almost angry.

"I'm sorry." His normally smooth voice was rough. "I didn't mean for you to see that—when I phased, it shouldn't have happened in front of you. I never wanted you to see me that way…." He trailed, and I understood that he was not angry with me, but with himself.

I bit back a laugh. He was actually _nervous _that I was afraid of him now! As if seeing him as a wolf could change the way I felt about him! "I meant what I said Quil—you didn't scare me. Don't you remember? "

He smiled a slow sad smile. "I remember. I still wish you hadn't seen me. Not like that."

"I'm glad I saw you!" I declared. "I always wanted to see you like that; remember how I used to whine about it?" I smiled to myself. It was the first time in so long, that I could remember without feeling pain. "I think part of me was afraid that you were just making it up to tease me. It's nice to know for sure. And you kept your promise—to show me one day."

"You know I can't lie to you Claire." He winced, closing his eyes tightly, as shifted in the bed.

"I should let you get some rest—" I jumped up and put a hand on his shoulder to say goodbye, but his skin made me forget everything else. "You're warmer!" I cried, and laid my palm flat on his skin so I could feel the heat. "Last night you were so cold…." Unconsciously I ran my fingers across the smooth length of his shoulder, reveling in the heat emanating from it.

I smiled down at him, and it was the first time since the whole trip began that I felt like it—like _really_ smiling so it reached my eyes, not just moving my lips in the motions. Our gaze locked and my fingers stilled.

"I—I should go…let you get some sleep..."

"Please don't," he whispered. My feet moved automatically, backing towards the chair, where I sat with a heavy thump.

We stared at each other for the longest time. It wasn't awkward though. Even after all this time, it was never awkward. But I could see the internal struggle within Quil, like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how. And I knew exactly what it was.

"There's so much I want to say to you—so many things I need to apologize for—" he began, but I pressed my fingers to his lips before he could continue.

"Later, we have all the time in the world for that Quil," I whispered. "Just focus on getting better now, the rest can wait a while." I was being a coward, I knew, but I wanted to keep this day untouched by pain and apologies and explanations, and just be happy that Quil was here and _alive. _No doubt we'd have that conversation soon; it was something we both needed. But not yet.

So, for the rest of the afternoon I sat beside Quil's bed talked to him. I told him about everything that had happened to me in the last year: the new friends I'd made, the homework and the teachers. I filled him in on Katie and Colleen, and all the little things and big things that Quil would have heard about if he'd been with me. He didn't say much, only closed his eyes and listened, sometimes asking questions or nodding. Once, when I thought he had fallen asleep, I began to leave, but Quil's eyes popped open and he asked me why I'd stopped talking. Afterwards, even when his breathing deepened and he was silent for long periods, I didn't stop.

He got better rapidly after that. Color returned to his skin, the gashes on his shoulder disappeared, leaving only thin white scars where they had been. Every day I laid my hand to his cheek, feeling the warmth return; that was how I gauged his progress.

Neither of us mentioned the night when I'd begged him to stay alive for me. I wondered if he remembered it, or if he thought it was just a fever produced dream. Some parts seemed dream-like even to me. Did Quil really trace my lips with his fingers? Did he really tell me that he loved me? Had he really held me while I fell asleep?

Carlisle told Quil to take it easy for a few days and let the healing do its thing, but I could tell that Quil was itching to get out of the little room. Every time Carlisle came in to check on him, he practically growled in frustration. I was only one who's head he didn't bite off, and so I spent hours in his room every day, trying to distract him.

Of course, that time gave Quil unlimited opportunity to study _me_, something I wasn't quite so comfortable with.

"You've changed," he said suddenly one afternoon. I was sprawled sideways on the bed by his feet, flipping through a magazine, while Quil stared out the window longingly—at least, that's what I thought he'd been doing. I frowned up at him, was I really acting so differently?

"I mean you look different. Older I guess."

"I'm fifteen now."

"I know." Our eyes locked. His voice was barely a whisper. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday. Both of them."

I smiled and put down the book to reach across the bed for his hand. It was warmer, but still cool in mine, reminding me of how it had felt to look at him and think he was going to die. "It doesn't matter," I said quickly. This was the closest we'd gotten to the subject of why he'd left since the first night. Part of me wanted to drop it, to pretend that the whole year and half had been a nightmare, but the other part of me desperately wanted to know why and how he could leave.

It was finally time.

"It _does_ matter," he argued. "I was an idiot Claire—I thought that- I thought I was making better for you." He refused to meet my gaze.

I bit my lip nervously. "Emily told me a little bit about it. She said Kim was hurt…." Quil nodded tightly. "But that's not _your _fault! And she's fine now…. I don't understand."

Quil pulled his hand from mine to run his fingers through his hair. "It was our fault Claire," he said, and his voice was very low. "It was _all_ our fault. Kim was alone, out walking on Second Beach when a bloodsucker caught her scent. He wasn't even thirsty, but he followed her anyway. He was curious about her, trying to figure out what she smelled like, because of course, our scent was all over her…

He took in a shaky breath. "Thank God, Embry and I were on patrol, so we caught _his_

trail before he killed her—" his voice became a growl— "but not before the bloodsucker shattered Kim's leg when she wouldn't tell him about the pack."

"Oh my God," I breathed

His eyes met mine pleadingly, seeking forgiveness or at least understanding. "That's why I left, because all I could see after that was _you _in Kim's place, only not as lucky, and Claire that would kill me… Losing you like that, it would hurt a thousand times more than just leaving you."

And I understood. Hadn't I felt exactly the same when Quil came so close to dying? Just knowing he was alive somewhere—even if he wasn't with me—was better than him having no life at all.

I threw myself across the bed, and into his arms. As it always did, a rush of well-being and safety washed through me when he wrapped his big arms around me.

"You're an idiot," I mumbled into his shoulder. "I understand, but you're an idiot. Instead of leaving, you just shouldn't have let me out of your sight."

He pulled away slightly and grinned down at me. "So you won't mind if I'm a little overprotective of you from now on then?" he asked.

"I won't mind," I answered quietly. "Now that I know what's out there..." I shivered, imagining myself in Kim's place. "I never thought it was so dangerous here, or that vampires came so often… but now after what's happened to you…."

"It's _not_ normal," he reassured me. "That was the biggest group of vampires I've seen in a long, long time."

"Why do you think they were here?"

He shrugged. "Hopefully they were just passing through. There's no reason for them to come here—the Cullen's have been gone a long time and not that many others know about the pack here at La Push. Those who do know, know we don't tolerate visitors."

"How many have come before?"

"Not a lot. Maybe four or so in the last thirteen years, not counting the group we got last week," he rubbed his shoulder thoughtfully. "It seems like most bloodsuckers keep to themselves, and no one notices or cares when a few go missing, which is good for us. We keep small patrols on the lookout though, and keep our eyes peeled, just in case."

I was confused. "Small patrols? But I thought the pack was huge?"

"It is. But it's hardly worth it to keep everyone patrolling when there's so few bloodsuckers, and besides, some of us have retired."

"Retired? You mean, stopped becoming werewolves? Can you even do that?"

"Well, we can't ever change what we are, but we can stop phasing, let ourselves age."

I stared at him blankly.

He laughed. "I guess I didn't do a very good job explaining everything that first time." He took a deep breath. "After we first change, our regular bodies change too. I had a normally developing sixteen-year-old body, and all of the sudden, very quickly, I was fully matured; I got taller, bigger, and stronger. After that we don't age—something about phasing into a wolf so often, it keeps us from getting older."

"Will you ever?"

He nodded. "Once I stop phasing for a solid period of time I'll begin to age again, but physically I'll always be younger than I am technically."

"Oh." I digested that.

Quil was thoughtful. "In the beginning it's impossible to keep from phasing; every strong feeling, any slight wish for it and I would phase. It took a very long time to get complete control over that side of myself; it took us _all _a long time.

"But once we did, and after the Cullen's left and things quieted down, Sam gave us each the choice. Stay part of the pack, patrol, and continue to not age, _or_ we could walk away and let nature do its thing."

"Why would anyone _want _to stop though?"

I thought of Quil and of the overwhelmingly powerful creature that he had become that night. If I had that kind of power, would I ever be able to give it up?

"Jared did, after what happened to Kim. Some of them tried for awhile, just to see if they could. But eventually I guess we all will." At the perplexed expression on my face, he leaned forward.

"Take Sam and Emily for instance. Because he had fully matured after he first phased, he was physically a few years older than her when they got together. Now it's the other way around—not that he cares about that part—but few years after the Cullen's left and things quieted down—after he got complete control, he stopped phasing. He wants to age for Emily you see. He doesn't want to have to live long without her. He can't imagine a world that's she doesn't exist in, or bear the thought of living without her. I think it'll be like that for all of us someday."

"But I thought Sam was with you, the night you..." I trailed.

"He was. He's never completely given it up, just during quiet periods, but when there's danger, he doesn't really trust anyone else. He loses time that way, but he feels better about us."

"Why didn't _you_ give it up too?" I asked.

"Give it up?" A huge grin spread across his face, and he shook his head. "I couldn't—the freedom, the family—knowing I can keep people safe…. I never saw this as a burden the way some of us did." He paused, looking distant, before turning back to me. "Besides, I don't want to age right now." He smiled.

"Will you ever want to?"

His gaze met mine. "Someday." An emotion flickered in his eyes. Then he laughed. "Someday I'll have to; it's not like I can stay in my twenties for the rest of my life."

I paused, thoughtful. "So, does that mean that someday, if I keep aging and you don't, that we'll be the same age?" I asked without thinking, then blushed, hoping he wouldn't realize _why _I was so curious about catching up to him.

Quil didn't say anything for a few seconds, but finally, he nodded. Then his thoughtful face cleared, and huge grin spread across his face. "You may be getting older, but you're still not getting any taller." His eyes sparked teasingly, making my heart beat unevenly.

"I'm not that short. I've grown two inches!" I protested, but Quil only shook his head. He held my hand gently in his, turning it so that our palms pressed together, matching my hand against his own. And it was true, my hand looked tiny, like a child's beside his.

Still silent, he slid his hand down, looping his thumb and index finger around my wrist, making a too- large bracelet, showing me how small I was in comparison to him. His eyes were fixed intensely on my wrist. It seemed to me that Quil's hand wasn't really a bracelet at all, but a shackle —one I put willingly on myself, binding him and me together despite everything. I wore it gladly.

He slid his hand higher up my forearm, and the light brush of skin against skin gave me goose bumps. It wasn't until he reached above my elbow that his fingers met with any resistance. Quil lifted his eyes to mine, and I could see a struggle in them, like he wanted to do or say something, but was afraid to. I tried to encourage him with my eyes, but he pulled away sharply, breathing in deeply.

I wanted to say something too—anything—to make Quil look at me again. I leaned towards him. "I'm all grown up now. You can't treat me like I'm a little kid anymore."

Why did he look so nervous? "Are you ok? Do you want me to leave?" I shifted uncertainly. It was the last thing I wanted, but if he was tired, or if I was getting in the way of his recovery…

"No! No, please stay." He reached for my hand again.

I took a deep breath when our fingers met, feeling the steady shiver of electricity between our bare skin.

All I could think, as my heart started thumping erratically and a mixture of old and new feelings stirred in my chest, was, _here we go again…._

After all this time, I was _still_ in love with Quil Ateara. What an idiot.

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**A/N: Yay! Quil's alive... you didn't really think I would kill him did you?**

**So, I'm really looking forward to the next part of the story, which should be much more lighthearted and less angsty than the last few chapters, and of course, I get to write more about Quil and Claire's changing relationship, which should be fun.**

**As always, if you liked it, leave a review. If you have any questions, I'll be happy to answer them for you, as long as it doesn't give away future plot.**

**Rosybud ;-)**


	11. Chapter 11: Trust

**Hey, sorry it's taken so long to update, ff net has been acting stupid today. _And,_ I've been busy baking a cake in honor of Edward Cullen's 107th birthday (happy birthday Edward!!). **

**Here's Chapter Eleven...**

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Carlisle left five days later. He shook his head at Quil and muttered something about miracles again, but I wasn't paying attention. My eyes were on Quil who stood leaning against the kitchen counter looking perfectly healthy and strong; no one would ever be able to tell how close he had come to death.

"Thank you so much Carlisle," Emily said, smiling up at him, while Sam shook his hand.

Carlisle smiled back at them. Then his odd golden gaze turned towards Quil. "They'll all be pleased, they were all very worried for their friend." They shared a long, knowing look.

Carlisle began to leave, but stopped in front of me where I stood next to the door. He leaned forwards, speaking lightly in my ear, very quietly so that no one else would hear. Out of the corner of my eye, with the small part of my brain that couldn't look away from this god-like being, I saw everyone stiffen and heard sharp indrawn breaths. Tension radiated.

"It's very lucky for Quil that you were here," he said softly, his sweet smelling breath blowing across my cheek, his voice velvety. "Be careful with the power you have over him, make sure you use it wisely." He leaned away. All the werewolves in the room visibly relaxed. Except for Quil, who still stood taut, ready to spring.

"I didn't do anything," I whispered back, bewildered, but Carlisle only smiled, nodded his head at the rest of the group, and left the house with his strange dancer-like grace.

"Finally, Dr. Fang's gone," Quil exhaled, coming over to stand beside me protectively.

"That's not very grateful," Emily, chided. "You wouldn't be here today if he hadn't come."

Quil shrugged. "I'm surprised his smell didn't kill me first," he snapped, before looking at me sharply, curiosity tinting his features, though he tried to sound offhand. "What did he say to you anyway?"

"Nothing," I said too quickly, then made myself relax. "Nothing I understood anyway."

'They're always cryptic like that." His nose wrinkled when he leaned closer.

"What?"

"You smell like a leech."

"Oh. And that's bad?" He nodded, leaning away. I frowned. "I thought he smelled kind of nice."

Quil's face darkened.

"Well, it's not my fault!" I protested, trying to fan the scent away. Suddenly, he grinned, and I knew I was forgiven.

I meant to ask Quil about all the odd things I'd noticed— and I wanted to know more about the Cullen's but there was only one day left of my April vacation, and a million other things to talk about.

The previous year and a half had already become a cloudy, distant nightmare; I'd already made up my mind to pretend the whole thing never happened. But, the afternoon that my mother was expected to pick me up, I couldn't help myself, I had one last thing to ask, before I could completely let it go. Quil sat on the porch steps with me; my duffel bag was packed and ready behind me. I took a deep breath.

"Quil," he turned at the sound of my voice. "Are you ever going to leave me again—like you did before I mean. Because I don't care what happens, or how much danger you think I'm in, I couldn't take that, not again."

His face softened, he reached for my hand. "No." His voice sent a thrill through my body. "I'm not. Now that I know what it feels like, I don't even think I could even try to stay out of your life again. It was too hard."

"Good." I leaned against his shoulder. "Cause I'd probably have to kill you if you did."

My mom smiled a little wistfully when she saw him sitting next to me when she pulled up in her car. She gave Quil a hug and shot a we'll talk about this later look at me, but I could tell she was pleased.

I got a little panicky when I was finally in the car, and my bag was in the back, and my mom was beside me in the driver's seat. I tried to push down the fear that tugged at me. I knew it was irrational, I knew Quil wasn't going anywhere and that life would undoubtedly go back to the way it had been before, but I was still scared. Scared that someday he would leave me again, and whatever "power" I had over him, wouldn't be enough to bring him back.

Quil stood in the exact same place where I'd hugged him goodbye. His hands were in his pockets, and his face was carefully expressionless. All except his eyes. They were green today, and intense, pained almost. I felt exactly the same. It hurt to leave him, like I was ripping something away from myself, an arm or a foot. A part of me.

"I'll see you tomorrow Claire," he called to me. I tried to smile, but it came out as more of a weak grimace. Because what if he didn't? What if he never came? Could I go back to being normal again, go back to a life that Quil wasn't a part of? I'd done it once before when I had no choice—I'd tried. But as hard as that had been, I knew with certainty that it would be a thousand times harder to do it again. Seeing him, touching him, talking to him had brought it all back.

I would never be able to pretend that I didn't love him again, or try to convince myself that it was only a silly adolescent crush, because it was more. It had always been more. Ever since I was a child, I had been wrapped up in him, drawn to him like we were two magnets. My inescapable pull.

"Claire?" My mother's voice called me back to reality. She was looking at me, a worried look on her face. I tried to smile reassuringly.

"I'm sorry, I just zoned out there. What were you saying?"

"I was just asking if you had a nice time?"

"I did—once Quil was better at least."

"Yes, Emily told me what happened. I'm glad he's ok." My mother looked at me again, searchingly. "And everything's back to normal? With you and Quil I mean?" I nodded, waiting for her to tell me to be careful with him. I expected it; after all, my mother knew best how much he had hurt me. But when she spoke, her voice was very soft. "I'm glad for you Claire."

We didn't talk much for the rest of the drive, which I was glad for. I needed the time to think, to process everything that had happened in the last week. It had changed so much, my whole life it felt like, and the idea scared me just as much as it made me happy.

Colleen was in the kitchen eating a sandwich when I walked in the back door. She eyed me speculatively for a few seconds while I got myself a glass of water and sat down next to her.  
"Hey," she said quietly. "I'm glad you're back."

I smiled back at her, but I couldn't quite feel the same.

For the first time in a long while, I slept badly that night, tossing and turning, before finally falling into a fitful, nightmarish sleep. The dreams were all the same; in them I stood alone at the beach as thunder threatened loudly above me, I called and called for Quil until my voice rasped and broke, but he never came.

It was raining when I woke up, feeling anxious and un-rested. Colleen watched me while I fidgeted through breakfast and paced in the living room afterwards.

"What are you so nervous about Claire?" she said, exasperated. My pacing was distracting her from the TV.

"Nothing," I replied automatically, even though a war was raging inside of me. One side of my brain was telling me to be calm, to trust Quil—after all, he had said he would come, and he always kept his word. But… the other side of me whispered what if he didn't? I knew I'd be useless until he walked in the door… or he didn't.

So I settled into a chair and tried to pay attention to whatever was on the television, but at every little noise, I jumped. Colleen was looking at me like all her worst fears had come true and I'd gone crazy at last, but I hardly cared.

"Claire stop it!" she yelled after I'd started for the tenth time. "You're scaring me. What the hell has got you so freaked out?"

I opened my mouth to lie, but at the same moment, I heard the sweetest sound of my life. A familiar quick knock and then the sound of the kitchen door opening. I was out of the chair instantly.

"Quil!" I cried, throwing myself at him. His arms wrapped tightly around me. "I was so afraid you wouldn't come." I buried my head into his chest, and breathed in deeply his familiar earthy scent that was only made stronger by the rain.

"Of course I came, why wouldn't I?" he asked, rubbing my back. My fears suddenly seemed stupid and unfounded, so I just shrugged and didn't answer. But I didn't let go of Quil's waist either; it was so nice to be held by him, so safe and warm feeling. I could happily stay in his arms forever.

The sound of a throat being cleared behind me finally made me look up. It was Colleen.

She stood in the doorway, with her arms crossed and a frown on her face. She looked livid. "So you're back are you?" she shot at Quil, her voice venomous. "How long are you staying this time?"

"Colleen!" I turned to face her, but still held Quil's hand tightly in mine.

She ignored me. "I think it's a fair question."

"I'm not going anywhere," Quil said quietly. He seemed to be expecting her anger.

My sister's eyes narrowed. "It took her months to get back to normal, months for her to stop crying herself to sleep at night. You should have seen her Quil; she was like a ghost, so pale and quiet and hurt." He winced. "You did that to her, so forgive me for not being a little happier to see you."

I stared at her, shocked into speechlessness.

But Quil wasn't. "You have every right to be pissed at me Colleen. I've made a lot of mistakes—" he began.

She scoffed. "You think that you can just come back here and pretend like the last year and a half never happened? That you didn't break my sister's heart!"

"Colleen, shut up!" I yelled, surprised at the vehemence in my voice. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. "I've forgiven him, and that's all that matters. Just stay out of it."

Her eyes narrowed angrily. "Claire, go upstairs. please I want to talk to Quil alone."

"No way!" I yelled. "I'm not going anywhere!" We glared at each other for a few long minutes, neither one of us willing to back down. Quil's warm hand on my shoulder finally pulled me away. Wordlessly, he tried to reassure me that he would be ok.

"Please?" It was the first time, I'd heard my sister plead with me like this, and it moved me more than I wanted to admit. "It won't take long."

I bickered with her for a few more minutes, but my thoughts had wandered upstairs to the big box hidden in the closet in my room. Suddenly, I wanted everything I'd put in there back. I wanted my sea-glass on the bureau, my posters on the wall, and my pictures back in their photo-album. I wanted my life back to normal in every single way….

And that meant giving Colleen the chance to yell at Quil, to let her work through whatever insane grudge she still harbored, so she could go back to ignoring him like usual. I glared at my sister one last time before making my way upstairs. I went straight to my room, not even tempted to eavesdrop. I knew my sister well—poor Quil, he was in for a lashing.

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**A/N: I know this is a filler-y chapter, but I'll make it up to you by posting the next one either tomorrow or Sunday. AND I've decided to do the next chapter in Colleen's pov, so you can see what she says to Quil. **

**Please review! I'll be evil just this once and say... the more reviews I get, the faster I'll write ;-) **


	12. Chapter 12: Forgiveness

**So, just a reminder that this is from Claire's sister Colleen's perspective. I don't have plans to write from another POV in the rest of the story, but in this case, I just couldn't resist the chance to show an outsider's perspective to Quil and Claire's relationship. **

**Let me know what you think!**

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Colleen POV:

"_Claire, go upstairs please, I want to talk to Quil alone." _

Claire stared at me openmouthed in surprise. "No way! I'm not going anywhere!" she yelled, a glint of steel in her voice. I knew she was furious with me, but I didn't care. There were things that Quil needed to hear, and she'd be a lot happier not knowing what they were.

Quil touched her shoulder and they shared a look—_that look_ that made me feel like a complete outsider in my own sister's life. If it hadn't been there since the very beginning, it would have been disconcerting. As it was, I only felt even more annoyed. It was so easy to see how completely she had forgiven him. But didn't she remember what Quil had put her through at all?

All the more reason to make sure he never did it again.

."Please?" I begged.

Claire shook her head, but I could tell that she was wavering. "What are you going to say to him?"

"Nothing he doesn't have coming to him." Claire glared at me, and in that second I saw clearly how much older she looked, how much more mature and grown up she had become.

"It's ok, Claire," Quil said softly beside her. "She needs to do this."

She hesitated, but finally gave a little nod and started to walk out of the room. But when she reached me at the doorway, Claire stopped and shot me a fierce look—warning me.

I waited until I heard her bedroom door slam close before I strode towards Quil. He braced himself and took a deep breath. I felt slightly ridiculous, standing there, scowling up at all six-foot-five of him, straining my neck so that I could look him in the eye. I had forgotten how big he was… not just tall, but muscled in a way that made all my guy friends feel instantly inferior and envious. For me though, he was just too big to be allowed; Claire was the only one who had never been bothered by his size.

Before I could speak, Quil cut me off. "I know I don't deserve her forgiveness Colleen, but you should know how much I regret hurting her," he sucked in a deep breath, and I saw for a brief second some strong emotion flicker in his eyes. "I didn't understand."

He stood patiently, looking like a child who knows he's done wrong and is waiting to be punished for it.

I didn't speak right away, but gathered my thoughts. I'd been waiting for this day for so long—how many times had I imagined this conversation? I wanted it come out just right.

"I don't know how you thought you could just leave without hurting her at all. Don't you know by now Quil?" He lowered his head, and I felt a thrill at the power I had over this man, that I could make him squirm. "Maybe you've heard a little about what she was like back then, but you have _no _idea. Sam and Emily wouldn't have told you the whole story, but believe me, I will. _Cheerfully_."

"I know," he grimaced.

So I told him. I told him about how she stayed in her room for a week, just crying. How she wouldn't eat and how thin she got. I told him how she couldn't stand to have anything around her that reminded her of him so she packed away half her room. I watched his face and hoped I wasn't laying it on too thick: I didn't want him to feel guilty forever after all, Claire really would hate me then… but a little guilt never hurt anyone.

"Maybe she would have been ok in time, I don't know," I finished. "But you messed her up big time."

"I didn't think—I didn't think it would hurt her so much," he said again, his voice thoroughly tortured.  
I leaned in towards him, my voice lowered as if I were telling a secret. And I sort of was. One that Claire would kill me for telling him if she knew. But she wasn't here, and Quil was. And he needed to understand this.

"Claire's in love with you Quil, she has been forever, don't you know?"

It's strange how one little word can change the whole meaning of a sentence entirely. _In._ That was all it took to make Quil stiffen and his face turn an ashy white in shock. Of course, he already knew she loved him, but he had no clue how much. "So you need to be _very _careful with my sister Quil," I growled. "You need to treat her like she's made of glass."

"Colleen—" he started to protest, looking frantic, but I held up my hand and cut him off.

"You and Claire have some weird thing going on, and it's been building ever since she was a little kid, or maybe it was the first time you saw her. I don't know, and I'm not going to pretend to understand whatever it is that's between you. Mom and Aunt Emily know, and they're ok with it, so I guess that's good enough for me."  
He didn't say a word of protest, and I knew I was right.

"But so help me God Quil, if you ever put her through anything like that again, I will track you down, and murder you." The words were true, but I felt a little ridiculous, little old me against this man…. Then again, for all my teasing, Claire was my sister. I'd do anything for her.

"I don't doubt that you would or could Colleen. But don't worry. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm going to try my hardest to make sure that she's never hurt again, especially by me."

"Good, you did a lot of damage last time, more than I you realize I think. She's a woman now, start treating her that way."

He looked defeated—a mixture of scared and insanely hopeful. "I _can't_," he breathed. "If I start thinking of her like that…" he bit his lip as if he was afraid he'd said too much. And he had, he'd shown me his fear... and his love. My heart softened. I wasn't sure exactly whator how _much_ he felt for Claire—there were definitely things at work here that I didn't understand, but it was obvious how much he cared for my sister.

"Too late. You don't have a choice anymore. She's past the point of pretending." Quil ran his hands anxiously through his hair, making it stick up on end.

I bit back a smile. This man, so big and tough, was nothing but a marshmallow when it came to my sister. Tiny little Claire—she had him wrapped around her finger and she didn't even know it.

That was the funny thing about Quil, despite his size he was always so insanely gentle with Claire, devoted really. He'd eat glass if she asked him to. It had been like that from the first day he'd started coming over to baby-sit. Me, he treated like an annoying little sister—he'd egged on all my ridiculous little schemes—and was ready with a band-aid afterwards. With Claire it was different, she never even got the chance to hurt herself.

I thought back to a day years and years ago when Claire was just learning how to ride a bike. I had been riding for years so of course I was showing off a little, making her jealous at all the fancy tricks I could do when she'd just barely graduated from training wheels.

"Look Quil," I called over to him, loudly enough so that Claire would hear. "No hands!" And I sped off down the road with my hands on my thighs, ignoring Quil's yells to be careful. When I'd pedaled back to where Quil was walking behind Claire, making sure she didn't fall, I was triumphant.

"Cool huh?" I bragged.

"You're such a showoff," she howled, her face darkening with jealousy. She was small for her age, even then, and the sight of her balled fists and shaking frame set me off laughing.

"Oh yeah—you do it then."

"Fine!" And before Quil or I could stop her, she'd set off unsteadily down the road.

"Colleen," Quil growled at me, before running after her. I felt a little guilty; I hadn't meant for her to take my words so seriously, I didn't want her to hurt herself. I watched anxiously as Claire headed towards a spectacular crash… but of course I needn't have worried. Quil caught up to her and snatched her off the bike, cradling her carefully as it smashed to the ground. He set her on his shoulders, and picked up the bike with one hand. As they walked past by me, Claire stuck out her tongue.

That was why it had shocked me when, out of the blue he'd disappeared from her life, I had never thought he was even capable of leaving. But, it appeared he'd learned his lesson… and he knew she was in love with him now. That was important. Claire was no longer five years old; it took more than protecting her from a couple scrapes and bruises to make her happy now, and there were different kinds of hurts.

I pulled myself away from my memories, and up at Quil. He looked completely disorientated, more like a teenager than an adult, as he digested my words. He looked very sweet and endearing, and so very _young_, that it was hard not to feel bad for him. I had done my job, I'd made him see just much _had_ and_ could_ hurt my sister. Things could go back to normal now.

I walked over and gave him a quick hug.

"Welcome back Quil. It's been awhile."


	13. Chapter 13: Fighting Ghosts

**Author's Note: To thank everyone for all their wonderful reviews and support of this story, I've been trying to send a thank-you message to everyone who has consistently reviewed. It's taking much longer than I originally thought! So if you haven't heard from me yet, don't worry, no matter how long it takes, I will respond! **

**Thank you all so much!**

**Disclaimer: Quil and Claire don't belong to me :-(**

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"What do you think the chances are of your sister driving us down to La Push this afternoon?" Katie demanded, throwing open my bedroom door without knocking.

She'd been making her entrances this way for so long that I didn't even bat an eyelash anymore. I sighed and closed the copy of _Jane Eyre _I was rereading.

"Slim to none. Why?"

Katie groaned dramatically and threw herself down on the bed beside me. "Mark is having a party down at one of the beaches there, and he invited us to come, but I have no way to get there!"

"Mark?" The name didn't sound familiar.

"_Mark." _She repeated slowly, enunciating each letter like I was mentally impaired. "The guy I met on the beach last summer. He and his friend Peter took us out for dinner to that pizza place where you had a horrible time. The guy I've been emailing for months now…the love of my life who refuses see that I'm his soul mate. _That_ Mark!"

I blinked. "Oh. I didn't know it was so serious," I struggled to hold back a smile. Good old Katie, you could never call her boring.

"We stayed in touch after last summer," she shrugged. "I haven't really talked much about him—and you've been too busy living in Quil la-la land lately to notice."

I couldn't deny it. It had been crazy really, how quickly Quil and I had fallen back into our old routines. Except now, maybe we were spending even _more _time together, if that was possible. Which meant a lot less time for other things, including Katie.

"Tell me everything," I demanded, pushing down the guilty feeling in my stomach. I would be a better friend from now on, I promised. At least school was finally out for the summer, so that made it easier anyway.

"Well… we've been doing the whole 'just friends' thing. I know he likes me too, except he's afraid of the long distance stuff, since he lives in Forks. Stupid guy," she growled. "It's only an hour! That's nothing!'

"Yeah… that's why it's no problem getting to La Push this afternoon." I grinned wickedly.

Katie glared at me. "Well, if you were a real friend…" she trailed, making me roll my eyes.

"Fine! I'll talk to Colleen. Maybe she's not busy."

Colleen, it turned out _was_ shockingly notbusy. But of course, she couldn't make it easy on me by just being a nice older sister. If we wanted her drive all the way to La Push, I had to fulfill some 'conditions.'

"First you are not allowed to wear jeans to this party," I opened my mouth to argue—what was wrong with my jeans, they were comfortable!—but she interrupted me. "Second…." She held up a tube of mascara in her hand.

"Makeup!" I moaned. "Why?" She'd been trying to make me wear makeup since I'd turned twelve, something I'd stubbornly resisted.

"Come on Claire!" she protested. "You need _something_. A little mascara, a dress—you could actually be pretty."

"Gee, thanks," I grumbled. "I thought sisters were supposed to be nice."

"There's nothing wrong with looking presentable," she chided. "You never know who could show up. Don't you at least want to make an effort?"

"But I never wear makeup!"

Her lip curled. "I know. It's about time."

I should have known better than to argue. Between Katie—who was determined to get to La Push and incredibly shameless in playing the guilt card—and my sister, who loved to make my life as difficult as possible, I was doomed.

Two hours later, I found myself sitting in the back seat of Colleen's car dressed in a flimsy light blue summer dress and white sweater, wearing more makeup than I ever had in my life. From the driver's seat, Colleen was practically radiating smugness, obviously pleased with her handiwork.

"You know I'm going to freeze to death, right? This is the Olympic peninsula for crying-out-loud, summer dresses aren't exactly appropriate here, even if it is June!"

"That's what the sweater is for," she replied evenly, a slight smile on her face.

Katie was so thrilled that she was actually going to see Mark that she was bouncing slightly on the front seat. "Shut up Claire," she called back to me. "You look awesome."

I groaned and tugged the hem of my dress self-consciously.

In less time than I thought possible, we were pulling up in front of First Beach, which had been completely transformed. Lit tiki torches were everywhere, and the smell of barbecue and charcoal wafted towards us with the salty ocean breeze. Mark had gotten a big group of people together, and as I scanned the crowds, I realized I knew no one.

"What time do you want me to pick you up?" Colleen asked, after we'd gotten out of the car.

"I was thinking we'd just go spend the night at Aunt Emily's. Her phone was busy when I called earlier, but I don't think she'd mind if we dropped in."

"Okay then, I'll see you tomorrow. _Have fun," _she winked at me.

Katie and I glanced at each other nervously, and started making our way down to the far side of the beach where everyone had gathered.

"Oh! I see Mark!" Katie was already running towards him. "I'll be right back," she called to me over her shoulder.

Great. Just great. I had been abandoned by the only person I knew at this stupid party, I was stuck wearing a flimsy dress that did absolutely nothing to protect me from the cool sea air, and people were starting to stare. I probably had mascara dripping down my face or something.

Well, if worse came to worse, I knew I could sneak off to Aunt Emily's house… or maybe I could go see Quil, neither of which were too far to walk. Frankly, both options sounded far better than the alternative. I edged closer to one of the driftwood fires, trying to warm my hands.

"Claire?" I turned to the sound of my name being called.

At first, I didn't recognize the guy who spoke. He was a medium height, sandy blond… he looked vaguely familiar.

"Peter?" He smiled and nodded.

Oh god, my night had gone from bad to worse.

"What are you doing here?" he asked curiously, his eyes dropped to quickly scan me appraisingly. I tugged at my skirt again, wishing it fell below my knees.

"Um, I'm here with Katie. Mark invited us."

"Oh yeah?" His smile became brighter; apparently, he liked what he saw. "Do you want something to drink? We have a cooler over there."

"I'm good." Something about Peter was making me feel _very _uncomfortable, especially since he'd blown me off the first and only time we'd seen each other. I wished that Katie would hurry back.

I was futilely trying to paying attention as Peter started to talk about something I had no interest in, when suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar tall figure—so tall that he stood at least a head over everyone else—walking in the opposite direction. My heart lurched, and I spun around to get a better look.

"Quil!" I yelled. I couldn't quite keep the relief from flooding my voice. His head snapped towards me, a huge grin on his face. I felt a matching smile on my own face in response as I waved him over.

Peter was scowling at me; belatedly I realized that I'd interrupted him mid-sentence. "Sorry," I apologized meekly. "I just didn't want that guy to miss me."

"You know him?"

"Yeah, he lives in La Push."

The second Quil was close enough; I grabbed him and hugged him tightly. I hoped Peter would take the hint and leave. "Hey, I didn't know you'd be here."

"Sam asked me to keep an eye out and make sure nothing too crazy happens here tonight," he answered, his eyes straying over to Peter, whose expression looked even darker than before. They silently stared at each other; I could tell Peter was sizing Quil up.

He shrugged in defeat after only a few seconds. "I'm gonna go. Maybe I'll see you around Claire."

We watched him walk away. "I don't think he likes me very much," Quil said, he looked like he wanted to smile again.

"I think you're right."

"How do you know him?"  
It was my turn to shrug uncomfortably. "Um, well, Katie and I kind of went on a double-date with him and one of his friends last summer. It was awful," I reassured him quickly. "He stared at the waitress the whole time."

"He was staring at _you_ tonight."

"Yeah," I dropped my eyes and started kicking the pebbles under my feet. "It's all Colleen's fault: she made me wear this dress and the makeup. I guess Peter liked seeing my legs."

A bona-fide low growl erupted from Quil, I looked up sharply, shocked. I couldn't believe I'd actually heard him growl.

"Hey! Calm down, it doesn't matter. _You're_ here now." I grabbed his hand comfortingly. I couldn't deny that I felt much, much safer with Quil around. He looked down at me, and I felt suddenly self-conscious again, but for totally different reasons. I wondered what Quil thought of me all dressed up?

He was just about to speak, when we heard someone call my name. It was Katie, a girl I knew slightly from school in Neah Bay trailed behind her. Beth was a senior, so we didn't see her a lot.

"I'm going to go get something to drink," Quil said, leaning down to speak in my ear. Someone had started playing very loud music, making conversation difficult. "Do you want anything?" I shook my head. "I'll be right back then." He smiled at Katie as he walked past her, and she punched him playfully in the shoulder. Luckily for me, my two best friends had always gotten along well.

Beth let out a soft gasp beside me, her eyes were still fixed on Quil's back as he walked away. "Oh. My. God," she breathed, her voice becoming high and girly. She sounded nothing like the person I talked to occasionally at lunch. "Who is that?"

A jolt of possessiveness lanced through me; I knew it was irrational, but I didn't like the way she was looking at him. When I didn't say anything, Katie spoke up.

"That's Quil Ateara, he and Claire are friends."

"Quil," she repeated in a way I _really_ didn't like. " He's gorgeous_._" Beth looked over at me. "And _huge_, I've never seen anyone so tall before… or that in shape. He's hot."

I smiled a little to myself; she had no idea how _hot_ he really was.

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

"He's too old for you," Katie objected.

"Like that matters, besides he can't be _that _old. What is he, twenty-three, twenty-four? That's nothing." Her eyes raked over him appraisingly. "Look at how big his hands are…you know what they say…" she laughed evilly.

"Shhhh," I hissed, mortified. This was _not _a conversation I wanted Quil hearing. I could see him making his way back towards us, carrying a bottle of soda in hand. He was smiling. Beth closed the distance between them quickly, and smiled up at him invitingly.

"Hello," she practically purred, or at least tried to.

"Um, hi," he said, taken aback at her forwardness. His eyes flashed to mine, a quizzical expression on his face.

"Quil, this is Beth, I know her from school," I said awkwardly. He nodded, and shook her outstretched hand.

"Nice to meet you."

Quil had to put up with Beth's drooling for the rest of the night. But I had to give him credit, he took it well. He left only once, to get me a soda.

"What is he, gay?" Beth's voice was acid. Quil had been unfailingly polite, but he had also refused to flirt with her.

"You're too young," Katie said again. "What do you expect?"

"He seems to like _you_ though," she shot at me. I didn't know how to respond to that. On the one hand, I desperately wanted her words to be true, but, with a sinking feeling, I knew she was just misinterpreting things.

"Well, they're different," Katie tried to explain.

"How?" Beth hissed. "I saw the way he looked at her…."

Both Katie and I shrugged. Beth just didn't understand.

Katie disappeared to find Mark again a little while later. She asked me if I wanted to go with her, but I was much happier staying with Quil. We had found a nice place to sit, out of the way of the crowd, where we could actually hear each other. So I waved Katie on, even happier when Beth followed soon after.

I shivered. Quil noticed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. We stayed like that for a long time, just looking up at the stars, listening to the music.

I started jerkily awake when Quil nudged my shoulder. I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep.

"It's getting late," Quil said softly.

I rubbed my eyes, feeling disoriented. "Ugh, what time is it?"

"Almost 1 o'clock."

I jumped up, awake instantly. "Seriously? Oh crap, Katie and I were going to spend the night at Aunt Emily's, but it's way too late to go over there now." I glanced around me: the fires were burning faintly and almost everyone had gone. "Where _is_ Katie anyway?"

"Over there. She's still talking to Mark." He touched my shoulder lightly. "Don't worry Claire, you guys can stay at my house tonight."

"Thanks, you're a life saver. I really didn't want to sleep on the beach," I joked.

Katie was euphoric when we dragged her away from Mark a few minutes later. But she was also exhausted, something tended to make her incoherent.

"Thanks for wearing the makeup Claire.," she mumbled, leaning heavily against my side as we walked to Quil's house. "Tonight was the best night of my life."

Quil helped me tuck Katie into bed, where she was sound asleep before her head had even hit the pillow. He'd informed me as soon as we walked into the house that Katie and I could share his room, and he'd take the couch since his spare bedroom was currently set up as a mini gym. I didn't protest; I'd never admit it to anyone, but secretly, I liked the idea of sleeping in his bed.

Quil gave me one of his t-shirts to sleep in. It was big on him, which meant it was practically a tent on me, the bottom falling to my mid calf. In the bathroom, I washed away all of Colleen's makeup, and finger combed my hair out until it hung long and straight as usual. The face in the mirror finally looked like me again.

Quil was sprawled out on the couch in the living room, his hands resting behind his head. He sat up when he saw me, his gaze lingering on the t-shirt.

"All back to normal again," I said shyly, perching beside him on the couch.

"I like you better like this." He sounded serious. "Aren't you tired?"

I shook my head. "Not really. Are you?"

"No."

"Let's just talk then."

"About what?" he smiled at me.

"I don't know," I thought for a few seconds. "Beth thought you were cute," I said, trying to keep my voice casual. Quil looked at me, one eyebrow raised. "_What_," I protested. "Don't you know that girls think you're good-looking?"

"Beth's not really my type," he said simply.

"You have a type?"

"Sort of," he frowned again, looking away from me.

I leaned forward, my curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

"My type?" He looked uncomfortable, edgy. "I don't know… not a vampire is good." He was laughing.

"Quil! Be serious!"

He turned to me, his expression solemn again. "Well, there was one girl—" he began hesitantly.

"Is she pretty?" I asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Very" he replied simply, still tense.

I couldn't stop myself: I wanted to hear more. "What's she like?"

"I can't really describe it…She's smart and sweet, but there's more to it than that. She drives me crazy, and I think about her all the time—" his voice cut off abruptly, like he was afraid of saying too much. I nudged his arm, asking him to go on. He laughed. "She had the sweetest laugh I ever heard."

"Oh." I reeled, racking my brain. He had never talked about anyone like this before. "I didn't know you had a girlfriend."

"I don't."

"Did she break up with you?" I frowned.

"Not exactly… she doesn't really know how I feel about her." Quil's eyes were carefully on the floor, he looked flushed—like he was blushing.

"What happened to her?"

He shrugged, his smile got wider. "Oh she's around."

"How long have you known her?" I pushed, not knowing where this vicious curiosity was coming from, but I knew I couldn't let the subject go.

"Years and years. But I knew the first time I saw her, I knew my life would never be the same ever again, that everything would be different."

I didn't say anything for a few moments, but Quil was watching me closely, waiting for my response. "That's a sad story," I said quietly.

"You think so?"

"Well, what if she never loves you back? Then you've wasted all that time; I mean maybe you could find someone else?" I clamped down against all the other words that threatened to escape. I hated the slightly pleading tone my voice had taken.

"When you love someone Claire, it doesn't matter how long you wait or even if they love you back. The most important thing is just that you love them."

Our eyes caught for a few seconds. I felt trapped in them, in the cool emotion of them. Then Quil turned away, breaking the spell.

"I think that's stupid," I protested.

Quil chuckled. "Someday you'll see."

I sat for a few minutes without speaking, absorbing his words. When I turned back to him, I saw that Quil had fallen asleep. His mouth was open and he was snoring slightly. My heart twisted. Why did he always have to look so beautiful?

After covering him with a blanket, I went back to the bathroom, and looked closely at myself in the mirror. One by one, I picked out each of my flaws, measuring them against all the beautiful women I knew. My skin wasn't the rich beguiling cinnamon of Leah's, but it was smooth and clear at least. My eyes weren't quite as large and sweet as Emily's were, and they weren't brown either, but gray. A bright, odd bluish- gray that contrasted strangely with my dark skin. No one in my family had the same color eyes as mine. An oddity.

My lips were full-ish, my forehead high and my face softly angled. My mother had always said I had beautiful hair, and it was my one secret vanity; it was long and thick, the ends falling to beneath my shoulder blades when I wore it loose. But I wasn't tall like Katie and I didn't have her endlessly long legs or full figure. I was small-ish and thin, sometimes awkward.

I tallied each positive and negative in structured mental lists, adding a point here, taking a point a point away there. I did it knowing that no matter the outcome, I would never be quite good enough. Quil's ghost woman was probably stunning, alluring, drop dead beautiful. How could I compare to that? How could I compare to his memory of her, which was probably 10 times more beautiful in his head than she had been in real life.

I slumped carefully beside Katie on the bed, careful not to wake her. Not even Quil's earthy smell could make me feel better. Quil's woman—she was a _woman, _not some scrawny 15- year old kid. I sighed and pulled the covers over my head. Jealousy flamed inside of me, after all, if he had known her so long and loved her so much, then why she wasn't there when he was dying? Didn't she care that that might have been the last time she saw him? I tried to remember if there had been anyone in the house that I didn't know, some woman hovering around the edges, but I couldn't think of anyone.

_She doesn't deserve him, _I thought bitterly. Hatred for this ghost filled my entire body. Didn't she know how wonderful Quil was? He was meant to be loved deeply, to be adored, to get every ounce of the love he gave returned.

I rolled over, trying to find a comfortable position. I breathed deeply, hoping the anger that was burning inside of me would cool. I wished I would never meet her, that when she finally wizened up and realized that she'd never do any better than Quil, that I wouldn't have to witness it. That would be the worst thing in the world, watching Quil love another woman.

I realized as I lay there, that I'd never seen Quil with a girlfriend—oh, I'd always known that he must have them, but that side of his life had never intersected with his and mine. It had been easy not to think about when there were no names or faces to go along with my suspicions. Now, I wondered if I would ever _stop_ wondering? If the jealousy would ever really fade. In the back of my mind, I knew I'd have to face it someday—Quil with someone else. The realization broke my heart.


	14. Chapter 14: Sweet Sixteen

**A/N: After the last chapter, a lot of you guys wanted to know when Quil is going to tell Claire about imprinting. Be patient, it will be soon, I promise! In my story, Quil is determined to let things develop between them naturally, without introducing all the pressures of imprinting. But don't worry, he'll be backed into a corner soon enough, and he'll _have _to tell her ;-) **

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Today is my sixteenth birthday. Today is my sixteenth birthday...

The words rolled over and over again in my mind; I could hardly believe they were really true. For so long, sixteen had seemed like the magic number, the age when I would finally, legitimately cross the line between childhood and adulthood.

I could hear my mother downstairs in the kitchen, singing to herself while she finished the decorations for my party. She was almost as excited as I was, but not for the same reasons. Practically everyone from La Push was coming up to our house—Sam and Emily, Jared and Kim, Paul and Rachel, and Embry—and she hadn't seen her sister or her friends in months.

"Do you need any help?" I asked her, when I was finally downstairs, dressed and ready.

"Nope, I'm almost done," she said, as she finished tying together a bunch of balloons. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes; my mother never did anything halfway.

It wasn't long before the cars started rolling up our driveway, everyone greeting me with a chorus of 'happy birthdays,' as the house filled up with people. My own few friends from school were here as well, and there was hardly space to hold everyone, especially since many of my La Push friends were so big. Luckily, it was a nice day out, for October in Neah Bay at least, and everyone spilled outside where picnic tables and lawn chairs had been set up. I sat down at one of the tables—Quil on one side of me, Katie on the other—and everyone else settled down around me, falling into a very old, familiar pattern of teasing and joking.

It was all so normal that I couldn't keep the smile off my face.

Jared sat down across from me at the table, grinning from ear to ear. "So you're finally sixteen huh?" I nodded, bewildered at the tone in his voice. "That's a good age to be. You know, I met Kim when I was sixteen, it's when my whole life changed. And now… well you're all grown up too, so who knows what could happen," he smiled again.

"Yeah, who knows?" I said uncomfortably, hyper- aware that everyone's eyes were on me, knowing expressions on their faces.

"Claire," Kim interrupted, breaking the awkward silence. "Could you hold Lily for me while I go help your mom and dad with the cake?" she asked, holding out her daughter to me. I nodded, glad for the shift in conversation, and she set her squirming toddler into my arms. I was used to kids after baby-sitting my cousins for so many years, and Lily was a cute kid, with her big brown eyes, but it wasn't long before I discovered she was a handful too. She bounced in my lap, grabbing and yanking anything in reach, including my hair. It was hard to believe I'd ever been so young.

"God, was I this much fun when I was her age?" I asked Quil sarcastically, after Lily threw my bracelets on the ground.

He grinned, picking them up and handing them back to me. "You were worse. You wouldn't stop moving—we'd have to chase you around everywhere." I stuck out my tongue at him.

"Now, that's not true Quil," my aunt amended. "She would sit still for you; she used to sit in your lap for hours listening to those crazy stories you used to make up. You were the only one who could calm her down." She smiled at me. "Whenever he was near you, you wouldn't take your eyes off him."

God, how typical did that sound.

He shrugged noncommittally, a touch of a grin on his face. "You were just a couple months older than Lily when we met for the first time." I looked down at the baby in my arms, and the whole situation blew my mind. Just the idea that Quil had known me like that—had seen me through almost every single stage of my life—every awkward phase, every unflattering tantrum. A little mini hellion.… How on earth was it possible for him to see me as more?

"Cake!" my mom called from the doorway. My cousins, who had been running around playing tag, ran to my side and sung at the top of their lungs beside me.

"Make a wish Claire," Quil murmured, taking Lily out of my arms so I could blow out the candles.

I closed my eyes briefly, and took a deep breath. I didn't even need to think about a wish—I'd been making the same one since I turned eleven, no matter how hopeless it seemed. I looked across the cake at Quil, smiling at him, and blew out the candles.

Everyone cheered when got them all out on my first breath, and started calling out how to my mom which piece of cake they wanted, and how big. My cousins were jumping up and down, demanding the piped frosted roses, just the way I had when I was their age.

I looked at Quil and we grinned at each other. He reached out towards me, wrapping one huge arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. I relaxed into him, laying my head against his shoulder, just like I always did… only this time, he bent down to lightly, almost absently press his lips against my forehead.

My heart stopped, and I froze in his arms. Quil had kissed me, for the first time since his grandfather's funeral. I could count on one hand the number of times he'd done it in my entire life…

He pulled away sharply, looking almost as stunned as I felt, and I realized that he had not meant to kiss me, that it had just happened. The noise around us had faded to a dim murmur as the blood pounded thickly behind my ears. I couldn't stop the slow, idiotic smile that spread across my face, and in response, he relaxed, pulling me back towards him.

"Happy Birthday, Claire," he murmured.

Maybe birthday wishes aren't hopeless after all.

xXx

It's strange how quickly time flies when you're happy. And I was, completely and totally happy, for the first time in a very long time. My sophomore year of high school was passing by in a speeding blur, each grey hour blending together until I could hardly remember what month it was, let alone what day. Not that I minded, the alternative would have been unbearable.

Today, it finally felt like spring; everything was so fresh and new feeling. After the long, cold, wet months of winter, when the hems of my pants seemed to be perpetually soaked, and the sun never peaked out of the sky, all I wanted to do was go outside and soak up the weak sun and gentle breeze. I felt invigorated, more alive than I had in months.

The sound of the door opening and closing quietly, made my head snap up from where it rested against the open window of my bedroom. I ran downstairs and towards the kitchen, giddiness filling my entire body.

Quil was digging through the refrigerator; I saw that the jeans and t-shirts that he normally wore during the winter had been replaced with shorts and another, lighter shirt.

I grinned at him from the doorway. "Hi."

He looked over at me, a grin on his own face. "Hey." We stared stupidly at each other for a few long seconds, the smiles on our faces getting bigger and bigger. "So what are we doing today?" he asked.

His voice brought me back to reality; I gave my head a little shake, trying to think clearly again.

"I don't care what we do, as long as it's outside." A warm breeze blew through the screen door. "It's too beautiful to stay inside today."

Quil grabbed an apple, and followed me out the door. The ground was wet and spongy and every now and then, there was a cool bite to the air as it blew off the ocean, but I didn't care. An idea was forming in my head.

"Would you show me your wolf form again," I asked shyly, excitement coursing through me. I had only seen him that way once, and the image was forever burned into my memory. Quil just looked at me for a moment, reading the hopeful expression on my face. "Please?" I begged.

He sighed. "Is it really so important to you?" I nodded enthusiastically." Not here, ok? Someone might see."

"Wherever," I agreed.

Quil took my hand and led me across the backyard, to the place in the woods Quil usually emerged from when he visited me. There was a thin, well-worn path, and I realized that Quil must have made the trail since he had been emerging from this spot for as long as I could remember.

It wound deeper into the woods. "Do you walk this far every time," I asked, as Quil held aside a branch that grew across the path.

He nodded. "I can't take the chance of anyone seeing me transform. Sam's rules."

After a few more minutes, we reached a small rocky clearing. Sunlight dotted through the thick overhead canopy, speckling everything below with bright yellow light. A little stream wound its way protectively around the spot, trickling down mossy stones. It was beautiful.

"How come you never brought me here before?" I asked, taking it all in.

He shrugged. "I was afraid that you'd wait for me here when you were younger and see me phase."

"Would that have been such a bad thing?"  
"If you got too close, or were around when I became human again." I looked up at him, confused. "No clothes, remember?" he explained. I blushed. I'd forgotten about that part.

He gave me one last searching look, trying to find hesitation in my eyes, but there was none to be found there, so he began to walk away, deeper into the underbrush.

"I'll be right back then," he said quietly, sounding almost shy. "I won't hurt you Claire," he promised.

I waved him away and settled down on the driest rock I could find, not taking my eyes off of the direction he'd gone, but there was no movement or noise to signify his presence. Nervousness tempered the insane confidence I'd had earlier, after all I didn't know what to expect, I had only seen him in his wolf form once before. The sound of his growls and the sight of him the first and only time I'd seen him phase invaded my memory, and a little shiver escaped me.

Suddenly, I heard a twig snap, and my head twisted towards the sound. Out of the brush, the chocolate brown wolf walked towards me; he moved excruciatingly slow, one careful paw in front of the other. I sat frozen. He was enormous, much taller than I remembered. He seemed to shrink the whole space, making everything look tiny and insignificant beside him. Then I saw his eyes, so big and calm, so Quil. My legs unlocked and I stood slowly, and walked to him.

Quil sat down as I approached, so his enormous head would be more on my level. I held out my hand cautiously. "Is it ok if I touch you?" I whispered. Very slowly, he nodded.

His fur was the softest thing I had ever felt, like silk against my fingertips. My memory had never done it justice. Slowly, I ran my hands through the fur of his neck, reveling in the softness. I leaned forwards—he smelled woodsy and musky—the normal Quil smell only stronger. I breathed in deeply, brushing his face with my own.

I realized sub-consciously, that I was completely vulnerable to him; his teeth were centimeters from my neck, his claws so easily able to tear me apart. But I only leaned in closer, my arms wrapping around him, pressing my cheek against his muzzle. This was Quil, he would never hurt me.

I leaned back so I could look into his eyes again. I smiled at him and ran my fingers across the bridge of his nose; he leaned in to the touch. He looked like he was smiling.

"You're beautiful," I breathed.

He moved lightning fast, turning his head so he could give me a giant, wet kiss with his tongue.

"Ugh!" I cried, laughing and wiping away the wetness. "That's disgusting Quil!"

He laid down on the ground and I settled beside him, keeping my hands buried in his fur. I couldn't stop touching him I realized, and wondered if he would think it was odd, but he did not attempt to move away. I shifted so that I was leaning with my back against him.

"This is bizarre," I smiled. "I don't know why you didn't want me to see this when I was little; I would have loved it. A giant Quil teddy bear." A sound grumbled from his chest. I turned to look at him. "What?"

But of course, Quil kept silent. I shrugged. "You can tell me later."

We stayed that way all afternoon. Sometimes I would talk, but mostly I just ran my hands through his fur, and scratching his ears, which he especially loved. Every time I got close to his face, he would lean forwards and lick me again, teasing me.

When the sun's light became fainter, I turned to Quil. "Can you turn back now please—I sort of miss your voice." He laughed again, or at least made a rough coughing sound that I took to be a laugh and disappeared into the woods.

It was an electric shock to see human Quil again after the long afternoon. He sat down beside me, and my fingers itched to reach out to him, to run my hands across his smooth skin, to wrap myself up in his arms as I had when he was in his wolf form. It was impossible to not touch him after being so close, and the strength of the urge shocked me—I'd never felt anything like it before. Before I could stop myself, I reached out and twined my fingers with his. He could deal with that much at least. He looked at me, surprised, but not upset, and squeezed my hand gently. I kept my body stone still so I wouldn't give into any other urges.

We sat quietly for a few minutes. It was Quil who broke the silence.

"Did you like that?" he asked quietly. "Seeing me as a werewolf? You weren't scared?"

I felt myself blush. "No, I wasn't scared. I liked it very much; you're going to have to that for me again." He laughed.

He stared at me for a few seconds.

"What?" I demanded, feeling self-conscious. Did I have dirt on my nose—fur on my shirt? Quil ducked his head; I could have sworn a blush darkened his face.

"You taste like cinnamon… and honey," he said quietly, his voice making me blush too.

"How do you know?"

"When I kissed you, wolf senses, you know."  
Blood pooled in my face. When I kissed you. He couldn't just say things like that! Desperately wanting a change of subject, I asked about the growling before.

"Why did you get so upset?" I looked at him curiously.

He looked at me for a moment. "Please don't forget that I'm dangerous Claire—" I started to protest, but he raised a hand. "I am!" The sheer force behind his words stunned me.

"You keep saying that, but I don't believe you, I know you wouldn't hurt me!"

"Maybe not intentionally," he agreed, his voice softer now. "But because I am what I am, it means I'm unpredictable. I could very easily lose control… Sam did with Emily."

My eyes widened. "You mean—"

He nodded. "Sam gave her those scars. He had just started phasing and he hadn't learned control yet. You see, in the beginning, any strong emotion—anger, fear—was enough to send us over the edge; for Sam, all it took was one little argument."

"But you have control now?" I asked, digesting this new piece of knowledge.

"We all slip up sometimes." His voice was chillingly cold. "And it doesn't change the fact that if you ever got too close to me while I was phasing, I could kill you. Do you think I could live with that guilt? Sam deals with it every day—I don't want that." The agony in his voice made my breath catch. "That's why I never showed you when you were little, or brought you here. I was afraid that you'd think I was harmless, a 'giant teddy bear.' That you'd sneak out here and get too close one night…" he let the thought hang in the air.

"I won't."

"Thank you," he smiled. "You're too important to me to take chances with."

"But you will show me again, won't you?" I pressed, realizing it wasn't really his wolf form I wanted to see, but the side of himself that he revealed to me when he phased. It was as if some barrier, some wall, had come down between us in those hours, and I finally saw glimpses of whatever hidden thing Quil didn't want me to know.

"If you want me to." He paused, looking up at the sky. "It's getting late; I should probably take you home." I sighed quietly. I didn't want the day to be over yet.

He helped me up, and kept my hand tight in his as we walked down the little path towards my house.

"Are you staying for dinner?"

He shook his head. "Busy tonight."

We stood, still holding hands in front of the back door to my house—Quil on the ground, me on the first step, though not even that could make us the same height. Neither of us said a word, but we both seemed to be feeling the same bitter-sweetness that came at the end of such a perfect afternoon. Before I could think it through, I wrapped my arms around Quil's waist and pressed my face into his chest. His long arms wrapped around me tightly.

We stood like that for a few endless minutes. The steady rhythm of Quil's breathing, his smell, the softness of his shirt—everything filled me with calmness, like a breeze on a warm spring day. Despite everything I'd learned there was nowhere that I felt safer, nowhere else that felt so much like home.

"Thank you," I whispered into his shirt. He pulled back and smiled at me, but there was something different about it somehow. Some emotion in his face that I couldn't understand.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, and turned away quickly, walking the distance back to the woods in just a few seconds with his long powerful stride.

I stood on the step and watched him, staying there until long after he disappeared into the shadows.

I felt different somehow, older and deeper. The memory of Quil's arms around me was imprinted into my brain. Things were changing, I realized, as a surge of emotion spread through my body. I didn't know what it meant, but I was glad—so glad, that I was finally sixteen.

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**You guys blow me away with your reviews, keep it up!**


	15. Chapter 15: Falling

**Author's Note: I am so amazed at the response this story has gotten, and I'm even more excited that you all seem to get it. GIGhearts hit the nail on the head in her last review when she said that Quil is protecting Claire from himself, which is the perfect way to explain Quil's hesitancy in moving their relationship forward.**

**Also, twilightlove4ever pointed me in the direction of a great Quil/ Claire song for chapter 5, called 'Your Call'**_**, **_**by Secondhand Serenade (thank you, it's one of my new favs!) and it reminded me that I have started a playlist for this story, which I will be posting on my profile as soon as I get some free time. The song for this chapter is 'Stare'**_**, **_**by Marjorie Fair. I think it expresses Quil's POV perfectly! **

**Happy reading!**

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"Come on!" I whined. Quil was glaring at me, looking like he was about to have a heart attack.

"No freaking way! Do you know how dangerous that is?" he shot back, his voice strained.  
"That's a little hypocritical, don't you think? You've jumped off those cliffs hundreds of times!"

"Yeah, but I'm a better swimmer than you are, and I'm a lot stronger—"

"Don't you dare use that excuse again," I growled, glaring at him.

I had spent almost the entire afternoon futilely arguing with Quil about cliff diving—an activity he was adamantly against where I was concerned.

I crossed my arms stubbornly, sick of his excuses—yeah, I'm small but I'm not exactly breakable either. Perfectly capable of a little cliff diving anyway….

"I'm strong enough."

"Claire, I knew a girl once who cliff jumped, and she would've drowned if someone hadn't pulled her out. They actually thought she was dead for a while."

"She probably picked a bad day to do it then. Besides, you'd be there, and I trust you to save me before I die." Quil flinched and ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head.

I let out a groan of frustration. "Quil," I began, moving to stand in front of where he sat on one of my living room chairs, leaning down until our faces were only inches apart, my hands trapping his wrists against the arms of the chair. He looked at me, his eyes guarded and leaned backwards as far as he could, but I moved forward, making up the difference. "You know me… once I get an idea in my head I don't give up easily. Wouldn't it be better if you came with and kept an eye on me, rather than me going by myself and getting hurt?"

I saw his shoulders slump in defeat. "You're insane."

"Thank you," I replied, grinning.

I didn't immediately step away, but stood there for a moment, keeping his wrists trapped under my hands, just looking at him. It felt right to be so close.

But then Quil's eyes met mine, and it really was too close. Even the feel of his bare, warm skin beneath my fingertips was too intimate. I backed away quickly, my cheeks flaming, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"How about tomorrow then?" I asked, furiously trying to calm myself down. "It's supposed to be sunny, and I know my mom and Aunt Emily wouldn't mind if I went to La Push—" I cut off abruptly, before I started babbling. Quil just nodded; I saw his fingers flex, still on the arms of the chair.

I sat down on the couch, feeling silly and stupid. Why did I always have to do stuff like that and make things uncomfortable between us? Imagine things—imagine that there was a little electricity between us when there was really nothing there. Just the same old Quil and the same old Claire. Nothing had changed.

Only, that was such a lie! I could easily admit it to myself now—of course everything had changed! I thought back to those awful days when I had been so afraid that Quil would die, when the fear had hit my chest with the strength of a battering ram. Even imagining a world without him in it was impossible, unthinkable. And if it had been unbearable then, it was a thousand times more unbearable now. After spending so much time with him—seeing all the different sides there were of him, those childish feelings had suddenly matured and become so real that they could not be ignored, or pushed aside, or pretended away. And every single second I spent near him only made my longing worse.

Quil was looking at me questioningly, and I blushed even harder, afraid that he would read on my face what I was thinking. I could imagine what Quil would do if he knew how I really felt about him: he'd be unbearably sweet about the whole situation and he'd feel guilty fearing he'd somehow encouraged me. But inwardly, he'd freak out and think I was crazy. He didn't need some 16 year old with a puppy love crush on him, even if it was me. Especially if it was me.

"Come on," I said, smiling and nudging his foot with my own. Time to go back to being old Claire for a while, the one who thought of Quil as her brother and nothing more. "You promised me some ice-cream."

He smiled and stood, but he was still looking at me closely, a little frown creasing his forehead. There was something in his eyes that I couldn't quite decipher. Part nervousness... and a flash of something else that I didn't understand—eagerness maybe? But that didn't sound right, and it was gone before I could look further.

xXx

The next day dawned bright and beautiful. It was one of those rare summer days that was just warm, not humid or oppressively hot, or otherwise freezing. The sky was a shimmering azure blue and there was not a cloud in sight. I breathed in deeply and let the sun warm my skin.

"Oh this is heaven," I sighed, stretching my fingertips to absorb every particle of sunlight.

I was in La Push with the excuse that I was visiting my family for the weekend, but it was really the cliffs I wanted to see. Quil was, so far, sticking to his agreement to take me cliff diving. I couldn't really explain why I so badly wanted to do it, but I knew it had something to do with the fact that one of my clearest memories from childhood was sitting on the little rocky beach below the cliffs with Aunt Emily and Colleen and watching Quil and his friends jump. I could always tell which one was Quil by the crazy tricks he did in the air. There was something so exhilarating about watching him stand there, and then dive downwards, flying through the air.

The image had stuck in my head ever since.

"Are you sure about this?" Quil asked as we drove up to the place. I just ignored him; he had been trying to talk me out of it all morning. "Cause, it's really not that fun."

It was a beautiful spot. Low stunted evergreens sloped down the sheer rock face on one side; the sunlight glinted off the water. I could see the rocky little cove on one side where Colleen and I used to swim and watch the others. The ground under our feet was bare of all the little shrubs and grasses that covered the rest of the area, showing just how popular the spot was.

"Quil, stop being such a liar. I'm not going to change my mind." I stepped out of his truck and kicked off my sandals, and started to pull my t-shirt off. Quil's hand shot out, pinning my arm at my side.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

I stared at him blankly. "I'm not going swimming in my clothes." He flushed slightly and let go of my arm.

"I meant, what are you doing up here?" he sounded exasperated. "There's no way that you're jumping from the top your first time." I knew he wanted me to go further down to another little ledge, the baby jump.

I continued taking off my shirt, then pulled off my shorts. "Watch me."

"Claire, you've never done this before, trust me, lower down is better."

"Who are you, my father?" I snapped.

He froze. "I just don't want to see you get hurt," he said quietly.

"I know." Guilt flooded me; it wasn't fair to bring up the father thing—I definitely did not see him that way. I reached up and put a hand on his shoulder. "I trust you Quil; I know you won't let anything happen to me."

"I can't protect you from everything," he said through clenched teeth, the muscle in his jaw fluttering.

I sincerely doubted that, but when I walked over to the ledge and peered down, one quick look made my heart jump out of my chest. I backed away carefully. "Maybe you're right, I think I should jump from lower down, at least at first."

Quil had the decency to turn away and hide his smirk. He didn't say anything, but took my hand and led me to another, well-worn path that took us to a ledge halfway down the cliff face.

The spot looked far less scary, and my old excitement came quickly flooding back. "Come, on let's have some fun," I said, removing the rest of my clothing. I felt a little self-conscious at the way Quil's eyes quickly traveled up and down my body; I was just wearing an old bathing suit, one he'd seen me in before, but before I could blush again, Quil looked away.

"Will you at least let me go first, just to show you how to do it?" he pleaded. I knew it would make him feel better, so I nodded and stepped aside. He strode forward, shrugging out of his shirt as he moved. I had never known exactly how much older than me he was, but I guessed somewhere around late twenties to early thirties, but his body didn't look old at all. I tried hard not to stare at him, at his perfectly sculptured, muscular form, the way his smooth dark skin and hair shone in the light. And yet, he was hardly flawless. Long, spidery scars spread across his torso, creating an intricate web, and these imperfections only made him even more alluring. How many times had I seen him like this? And it was still too much, too powerful.

I turned away, reminding myself to breathe, trying to make my heart return to its regular rhythm.

"Are you watching?" he called. I turned back towards him.

Oh yeah I'm watching.

He took a deep breath and took a little running jump and he was flying down through the air. I ran to the edge to keep him in my sight; he really was graceful for all he was so big. He cut through the water without hardly a splash.

And it really was a long way down.

Quil swam further out, treading water so he could see me jump; he raised a long arm and waved at me, beckoning me down. I could hear him calling my name.

The wind was whipping at my hair, tugging it across my face even though it was tied back. I took a deep breath and stood with my eyes closed, arms lightly outstretched letting the feel of the wind across my face calm me.

And with a little running jump, I flung myself over, and this time I was the one flying. It was exhilarating and terrifying, I couldn't stop the scream that burst from my lungs as I fell. I hit the water, keeping my legs straight just as Quil had told me to, and sunk heavily through the cold water.

It knocked the breath out of my lungs.

It was amazing.

Quil swam over to where I emerged, sucking in lungfuls of air. Together we swam to the little beach.

"Oh my gosh," I gasped, sitting in the surf. "I can't believe you tried to talk me out of that! That was so much fun."

He shook his head and sat beside me. He looked guilty. "I'm sorry about being such an ass before. I don't have any business telling you what to do; you're right Claire, I'm not your father."

"Thank God," I snickered. "Does this mean that you're going to stop being so overprotective?"

"I don't know about that, but… promise me that before you do anything stupid, you tell me about it, and maybe let me come along too. I feel better when I can keep my eyes on you."

Keep my eyes on you. I knew he didn't mean it the way I wanted him to, but it left me speechless all the same. So I just nodded and grinned.

"Race you to the top!" I yelled, and sprinted towards the narrow, winding little path that led back up the cliff. It was steep and rocky, but every time I stumbled, Quil was there to keep me upright.

We sat on a large, jutting outcrop for a few minutes, letting the sun warm us—or me at least, because it was impossible for Quil to get cold. But the water was calling and I couldn't keep away from it for long.

"I'm going again," I told him. "And I'm going first this time."

I stood there for a moment, preparing myself for the jump. I could feel Quil's eyes burning into me, disconcerting me. I looked back him over my shoulder.

"What are you looking at?" I demanded.

"You," he said simply, his eyes met mine across the distance.

I could feel the blood pooling in my cheeks, I ducked my head so he wouldn't see how embarrassed I was by those simple words. I turned back to water, and took a running leap off to escape his gaze.

It was just like before, only better because I knew what to expect and I was able to keep my eyes open the whole time. I swam away from the rock face so I could see Quil jump, just as he had watched me.

The sun gleamed from his skin while he stood, the breeze catching his hair as it had caught mine. And then he was over the edge and falling, this time doing one of his fancy somersaults and twists in the air. I watched, feeling that pang of nervousness that he must have felt for me, but of course, he hit the water perfectly.

"Don't you dare try anything like that Claire," he called to me, swimming over to where I waited.

"I thought you said you weren't going to be overprotective anymore?" I teased. He just looked at me, and his expression made me smile.

"Come on, let's go back." He started moving forwards, but impulsively I threw my arms around the back of his neck, and held on, a little piggyback ride in the water. He looked at me over his shoulders.

I shrugged, "it's a long swim back. How many times have you told me how strong you are?"

He didn't say anything, but as he swam under me, I began to see that it had been a stupid idea after all. What had seemed so harmless—like something the old Claire would do, now seemed incredibly intimate. Just as he was feeling everything as I pressed against him, holding tightly, I was feeling all of him. Every muscle that stretched and tensed underneath my body, every breath of air he took, every bit of skin underneath my own bare skin. I wanted to run my hands across the slick skin of his collarbones and down over his hard chest, but I kept my fingers clamped against the instinct, the effort left me unable to talk.

As soon as we were close enough to shore, I slid off his back, but even the chilly water couldn't dampen the burning feeling that went from my calves to my thighs and up to my shoulders, a trail of fire left by his heat. I was starting to think I might never feel cool again.

We were both quiet as we made the climb back up to the car. Quil was ahead of me this time and I watched him closely, wondering what he was thinking. How did it feel for him to have me on his back? To have me so close? Was that why he was so quiet now? The hope that he wouldn't know how I felt about him was quickly vanishing, I knew I was being painfully, horribly obvious. He's probably just thinking of a nice way to tell you he doesn't feel the same, I told myself over and over the whole walk up, cringing against the moment that I was sure was coming once we reached the top.

I didn't want to hear him say it.

The sun was starting to go down in one of those brilliant colorful sunsets that streaked the sky every shade of purple, pink and orange imaginable, making the water below shimmer in the light. Sunsets like this had always made me wish I were a painter, able somehow to capture its essence. But I'd never been very artistic, and all I could do was look. Quil and sunsets had a lot in common I realized—both impossibly beautiful, both impossible to keep.

"I want to jump from the top this time," I told him when we reached his truck. He made a face.

"It's getting dark out, we really should start heading back."

"Please," I begged. "Just once, and that's it, I promise. You don't even have to come with me."

He frowned, but he didn't protest, even though I knew he hated the idea of me jumping so far. "Be careful ok?"

I nodded and walked towards the edge. I wasn't exactly sure why I wanted this so badly. Part of me—insensibly—wanted just a little more time before that inevitable conversation. Just a little while longer before I had to stop the growing need for him that had been building inside of me.

The drop didn't frighten me as it had the first time, and I knew it was because my emotions were churning in such a whirlwind that there was no room for anything else. I stood as I had the first time I jumped, my eyes closed and my arms outstretched. I took one deep breath and let myself fall.

The air rushed around me and was quickly replaced by the cold enveloping silence of the water. I let myself plunge as deeply as I could, until the sky was just a faint flicker of light above me. I fell far deeper than I had during any of my other jumps, and it was strangely exhilarating to be so cut off from the surface. I wonder how far down the bottom is? I thought, reaching down with my hands, towards the blackness, but there was nothing there. I swam deeper, until the sunlight above was only a faint flicker and my ears began to drum.

Suddenly, so tightly that all the air was knocked out of my lungs, I felt arms encircle me, pulling me towards the surface. Quil. Of course, he'd freaked out when I hadn't come up right away. Of course, he'd jumped in after me.

I rested quietly against him as he towed me towards the beach, moving inhumanly fast and then laid me down on the sand. He hovered over me; his hands smoothed my hair back in an anxious caress.

"Claire," he called, running his palm across my cheek. "Claire wake up!" My eyes fluttered open.

"Calm down; you're overreacting again," I told him calmly, breathing deeply.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I opened my eyes again and looked straight into Quil's.

He was leaning over me—carefully so as not to let me feel his weight, one arm wrapped protectively around me, resting lightly in my hair, his thumb moving in slow circles across my forehead. His other arm held me tightly by the waist, his burning hand holding me firmly in place.

But I wasn't going anywhere.

It had been building up to this all day, every touch, every look, every movement had been leading to this tension. We stared at each other, and Quil's eyes made me forget that I was wet and tired, and that there was sand sticking everywhere, to my back and arms and hair. His hazel eyes had deepened, his skin flushed, as I knew my own had. His hand at my waist began to move lightly across my stomach.

It took away my breath.

Water glistened off of him, trickling down his face and chest and falling on to me lightly. I followed one droplet with my eyes as it slid from his hair, down his cheek and chin, before landing on the edge of my lip. Shivers ricocheted down my spine.

I froze, afraid for a second that the movement would cause Quil to move away, but he only came closer, his gaze never leaving my face. His searing skin pressed against me; I thought I'd know exactly where our bodies had touched for the rest of my life.

Slowly, I reached upwards with my hand and ran my fingers softly against his cheek, brushing through his hair, and then downwards to his neck and broad shoulders. My breath caught at the way the muscles moved beneath his skin when he shifted, letting his own hand graze across my ribs, following the line of my bikini top.

I wanted him to kiss me—every cell was screaming kiss me, kiss me! But he only looked and gently explored, letting the electricity between us snap and crackle longingly. All the boundaries I'd made to protect myself, to keep from falling too deeply for this man were systematically being blown away by each contact, every heavy breath, and each flash in his eyes.

It felt like he wanted me, me who was almost seventeen, who was nothing compared to all the women he could have if he wanted them, to that ghost of a woman he loved. But in this moment, it was so easy to believe that he wanted me the way I wanted him.

He leaned forward. I closed my eyes, my heart hammering in my chest; I could feel his own drumming above me.

And then, he was gone. One second I held him in my arms, the next, only empty freezing air. The shock made me sit upright, reaching. Quil was ten feet away, crouching in the sand, an unreadable expression on his face.

"What—why…" I couldn't form a coherent sentence. All I could process was the sudden emptiness of my arms, as the cold air nipped at my skin. I looked at Quil, his head was bowed, and when he spoke, his voice was gritted.

"We should get going, Emily is waiting."

I couldn't take my eyes off him. It sounded like he was mad at me—like he was holding in some forceful emotion, as if he couldn't trust himself to speak or look.

I sat stunned; I wanted to collapse in the sand, but I wouldn't let Quil see me like that. It was the fear of losing me that had allowed him to get so caught up in emotion, to let himself get lost in physical feeling. Nothing more.

But… I remembered his hand on my stomach, the ache in his eyes. "Am I going crazy?" I whispered to myself, rubbing my temples, trying to forget the shivers that he sent shooting through my body. It was too much.

"No," I heard him murmur lightly. His voice was so low that I shouldn't have heard it above the crashing surf, but I had, and the sound sent shockwaves through my chest.

No. No I wasn't going crazy.

Did that mean that he felt the same? I studied his face intently but it was hooded; he had pulled a carefully made mask over his face and I couldn't read anything on it. He stood, and made no move to speak about what had happened, only held out his hand to me. But I'd already made up my mind not to touch him again, it was far too tempting, and besides, he had to explain that last comment first. I walked past him and up the little trail. This time whenever I stumbled, Quil did not reach out to steady me. I wondered if didn't trust himself to touch me either.

We did not speak at all during the drive back to Emily's. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw him staring stonily ahead; his gaze never flickered towards me. Part of me was angry that he was offering no explanation for what happened on the beach—after all, how long did he think he could ignore what was happening between us? How long could he tease me with glances and little touches without ever explaining himself?

He pulled up in front of Emily's.

"I have to go home and change," he told me, meeting my eyes for the first time.

"Quil—we need to talk about this—"

He held up his hand. "Please Claire. Please. Not yet; I promise that we will have this conversation, but not now, not like this."

"But Quil, I don't understand!"

"I know you don't," he leaned forward and covered my hand with his own. "I know it's hard, and I know you're confused but I promise that I will tell you, I just… I have to figure some things out first."

"What things?" I yelled, more confused than ever.

"Everything. Just give me a little time."

My head was spinning, the world had tilted and nothing made any sense anymore. There was nothing else to do but reluctantly nod, knowing that I would have to wait until Quil was ready to really talk to me. And once he was, somehow I was going to have to gather all my courage and tell him that I was in love with him.

The idea terrified me.

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**Please Review! **


	16. Chapter 16: Confusion

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This is the lead in chapter to the "big reveal," which is coming next, I promise! I know you guys _really, really_ want Quil to just tell Claire about imprinting already, but try to think about it from his perspective: Claire's only sixteen, and this is a conversation he imagined having when she was much older. He's spent fourteen years expecting things would happen one way, so having to rapidly change gears is a lot for him to take. He's coming around though ;-)

Song for this chapter is "Chasing Pavements," by Adele.

* * *

Quil did not come to Emily and Sam's house for dinner. I knew Aunt Emily noticed, just like she noticed my poor appetite and listlessness, but she didn't say anything. When Quil did not come by the next day either—which was unheard of-- she gave me a long searching look and said, "let's have a talk."

She waited until after the kids were all in bed for the night and Sam was in the living room watching TV, before she herded me into the kitchen and sat me down.

"What happened Claire?"

"What makes you think that something's happened?" I asked, feigning ignorance. But Emily knew, and she just looked at me until I felt my resistance begin to crumble. I wished I had her ability; it would've really come in handy with Quil. I shrugged. "Quil and I…" how was I supposed to tell my aunt about this whole crazy situation? "I don't know, we're going through a thing."

"A thing?" She was nonplussed. Then her expression softened. "Claire, whatever it is, you can tell me. I'll understand."

"I know." And I really did; Emily had always been so non-judgmental and understanding; sometimes it was easier to talk to her than my own mother. "But—but it all sounds so crazy when I try to say it out loud!" I rubbed my temples. "I… I'm…" I couldn't say it.

"You're falling in love with Quil," she finished for me.

"Is it that obvious?" I moaned, burying my head in my arms. She stroked my hair.

"Maybe, to someone who's paying attention."

My eyes were desperate. I leaned towards her. "Emily, I'm not falling in love with him—I am in love with him! It's so pathetic, right?" I cried, looking up at her. "I mean I'm sixteen years old, and in love with the one guy who'll never think of me that way, and I can't tell him because I know he'll be disgusted, and I can't tell anyone else because they'd be disgusted too."

"Why would he be disgusted?"

"Because I'm only sixteen," I said softly. "And he's so much older. He's like my brother, that's how I'm supposed to think of him."

"Says who?"

"Quil—well not really, but that's what he thinks. And every time I think he's starting to look at me differently, that maybe things are changing, he freaks out. That's what happened yesterday; and now he says he needs a little time and then we'll talk about it. I know he's just steeling himself to tell me that I'm crazy." I sighed. Emily just looked at me, her expression unchanging.

"I feel so stupid, Emily, and I'm mad at myself for letting this happen. I always loved him, but I never expected anything to come out of it. I thought it would just go away, or I'd grow out of it when I met someone else, but I haven't: the guys I know are so stupid! Like I've only been on one date before and the whole thing was so awkward and weird and the whole time I was wishing Quil was there instead."

"That's normal though, he's your best friend."

"No it's not, it's sick. He's in his thirties, he can have any woman he wants. A woman …" I blushed, but the words tumbled out anyway. "Shit Emily, I've never even kissed a guy before!"

I cringed, afraid that she was going to yell at me for swearing, but she didn't. Her voice was very soft. "I don't think it's so weird, and I definitely don't think it's disgusting. You've known him almost your whole life and he knows you better than anyone else in the world. It's natural to for you to develop feelings."

"No, it's natural to have a crush on him, it's natural to think he's cute, but—" how could I say it? How could I tell Emily that all I could think about was the feel of his hands on me, all I could imagine was him kissing me, all I wanted was for him to fall in love with me. "—but I want more. And it's impossible. All that will happen is that I make it uncomfortable between us and I go crazy with wanting."

Emily reached out for my hand across the table.

"I just wish he'd talk to me. Sometimes—sometimes I think he feels it too, but he always pulls away. And I have so many questions! I mean I realize that knowing Quil means not ever getting the whole story, but …" I trailed. "Why did he tell me that he's a werewolf? That's not the kind of thing they tell just anyone—and the whole pack accepts it, doesn't think it's weird at all! Nobody's ever questioned my place in his life—not even my mother. Didn't she think it was weird when this teenager starting hanging around me when I was a baby? I've always felt like I was only getting half the story, like I was missing something really important."

It felt so good to finally vent all my worries and feelings, all the little things that had gnawed at me for so long. And it meant so much that Emily hadn't thought I was crazy, that she seemed to understand.

But as I looked across the table, I realized that she understood too well. She knew the answer to all my questions… and she wasn't telling me. There was something else going on here.

"You know why, don't you?" I asked, frowning.

"Please don't ask me that Claire," she pulled her hand out of my grasp.

"Why not? If this has something to do with me—"

"Sweetie, this one of those things that you don't get to know, at least not yet. Please, let it go."

"That doesn't seem fair!" I protested.

"It's not," she agreed. "But Claire… they're not my secrets to tell."

I looked at her across the table, frowning. She didn't meet my eyes, but busied herself rearranging the bouquet of wildflowers that Sam had brought her that morning.

"Will I ever get to know?"

After a long moment, she nodded slightly, but didn't seem any more eager to fill me in. "Please Claire, just drop it for now."

She refused to say another word on the subject. I wondered why Emily was being so cryptic, but I did as she asked, and didn't bring up our conversation again, but that didn't stop me from thinking about it. Nothing ever seemed any clearer though, only more confusing as new questions came.

Quil finally turned up on Sunday for one of Aunt Emily's barbecues, which most of the pack came to. When he saw me, he gave me a nervous embarrassed smile, said hello and proceeded to stay 10 feet away from me for the entire night. Seth and Embry shot me many curious glances. I ignored them.

I found a seat on one of the plastic lawn chairs on the edge of things. Absently I ate whatever food Emily handed me, hardly noticing what I put into my mouth. I glared at Quil, fuming inwardly. He was being such a baby!

Someone sat down beside me. For a split- second, I thought it was Quil he looked so similar, but then the figure turned towards me and I saw it was my uncle. He sat next to me silently for a few minutes before exhaling.

"You ok?"

I shrugged.

"You want me to beat him up for you?" I knew he was talking about Quil.

I turned to him sharply. "Would you?"

He laughed and grinned. "Sometimes I think it would be good for him. He's been too serious lately, he needs to let it out or he'll go crazy."

"I know the feeling," I muttered.

Something flickered across his face. He leaned towards me. "You want some advice?" I nodded, feeling hope rise in my chest. "Corner him sometime soon, when you're alone and don't let him leave until he talks to you."  
"Like I could really keep him somewhere he didn't want to be," I laughed.

"Don't underestimate yourself Claire." I shrugged. "He'll probably be pissed at me for telling you this, but I don't care."

"What's Quil's problem anyway?" I said bitterly.

"Don't be too mad at him Claire. This is hard for him."

I felt the color rise in my cheeks. Did Sam know—had he talked to Emily… or even worse, Quil? Had Quil told him about that day on the beach and my now obvious feelings for him? Did the whole pack know? That would be unbearable.

I hung my head. Of course, everyone knew about my pathetic infatuation. That would explain why Quil was staying away—he was embarrassed.

"I have to go." I stood up quickly, but Sam's hand on my arm held me back.

"Talk to him," he said quietly. "He loves you."

That was the problem. Quil loved me, but never in the way I wanted. I nodded to him and ran into Emily's house, passing Quil. He looked at me, then his gaze shot towards Sam; there was an unreadable expression in his eyes.

After a long, mind-numbingly hot shower, I crawled under the covers and fell into the oblivion of sleep.

When I woke, I was disoriented. The sunlight streaming through my window was too soft. I glanced over at my clock. It was five o'clock… in the morning. I sat up, wide-awake. I hadn't been up this early in, well, forever really, but unlike usual, my body was telling me to get out of bed. I threw the blankets off me and pulled a pair of jeans on.

The house was silent; every creak of the floors made my heart beat right of my chest. I was convinced that either Sam or Emily would wake up and demand to know what I was doing and where I was going, but somehow I managed to reach the back door without being found out. I pulled on my rain boots and my jacket and carefully closed the door behind me, breathing a sigh of relief when I was wasn't caught.

My uncle's words were playing over and over in my head. Corner him… make him talk to you. That's exactly what I would do, I decided. I wouldn't go away until I had told him everything, every embarrassing detail—no matter what his response was. Maybe things would go back to normal once everything was out in the open. Regardless, I was done with letting him avoid me.

His little grey house was dark in the early light. Now that I was so close, my resolve began to falter, but I had already come so far… I forced my feet to move up the steps and made my leaden hands open the door. I kept reminding myself that he was a deep sleeper; no noise I made would wake him, at least not until I wanted him awake anyway.

The inside of his house looked so different in the light, not that I'd ever had much time to look around in the past, since we so rarely hung out there. I tiptoed slowly, looking at everything. It was messy like I expected, but hygienic at least. A picture on the refrigerator caught my attention—it was one of us together, taken when I was thirteen. I remembered it clearly; my mother was going through one her 'you're getting so grown up!" phases and had pulled the camera out all the time. It was before Quil left, back before things had gotten weird between us, when I didn't feel weird touching him, when he was still a far off ideal. In the picture, he was giving me a piggyback ride; there were enormous grins on both of our faces, my hair streamed out behind me.

I blushed remembering our most recent piggyback ride.

The door to Quil's bedroom was ajar. I hung back for a second, a frantic thought ran through my mind: what if Quil slept naked? That would be just like him.

Fighting the urge to run, I took a deep breath and peered in. I saw immediately that he was clothed… but barely. He slept on his stomach, his arms twisted underneath his pillow, wearing boxers and nothing else, not even a top sheet. The light from the window played across his bare back and his face, which was turned towards me. I sucked in my breath.

There was no way I could do this.

I walked quickly back down the hall, no longer caring how much noise I made. I ran all the way back to Sam and Emily's, not stopping until I was back in my room and the door was closed behind me.

I would go back, after breakfast I decided, when I was sure he was awake, when it wasn't quite so dangerous. The instinct had been almost unendurable, to crawl in beside him, to wrap myself around him and hold on as tightly as I could, to kiss that beautiful russet skin and run my hands through his hair. The idea made my heart hammer crazily in my chest. I took a deep breath and slid down the wall; I closed my eyes, wanting the treacherous images out of my head.

I didn't go back to sleep. I heard Sam and Emily wake and get ready for the day. I heard the kids laughing and splashing water in the bathroom, getting ready for another fun summer day. I wished I felt the same.

When I finally left my room, I moved slowly, taking a long time to brush my hair and teeth. I wished I was still filled with the overwhelming confidence from the morning; it had made everything so much easier. In the meantime, my legs had turned to jelly and a fine sheen of sweat hung on my skin, I was so nervous. Nevertheless, I made up my mind not to run again. I was going home tomorrow; it was now or never.

Emily didn't protest when I told her where I was going, not even when I turned down breakfast. Sam looked at me closely but I was so flustered I couldn't pay any attention to him.

I didn't bother to knock when I reached Quil's house, but let myself inside. Quil was in the living room, mercifully clothed this time, and looking not at all surprised to see me.

"Hi Claire." I envied him the perfectly even tone in his voice. He didn't sound ruffled at all, though his eyes were guarded.

"Hi." I sat down on the couch, blushing uncontrollably. "We need to talk."

"You're right," he said quietly. "We do."


	17. Chapter 17: Against Gravity

**Author's Note: I am SO sorry for taking so long. I meant to get this out much sooner, especially after the cliffhanger I left you with last time, but this chapter totally kicked my ass! It was by far the hardest one I've had to write for this story, but I managed to work through it with a ton of help from Coldplay (marry me Chris Martin!)**

**Thank you so much for all your awesome reviews last chapter! I'm thrilled that so many of you are liking my version of Quil and Claire's story…which is why I really hesitated and agonized over this chapter. I know you guys want resolution and a nice fluffy chapter, but I have this story under "angst" for a reason. I really want to explore some of the deeper questions and problems that arise with imprinting... so brace yourself.  
**

**The song for this chapter is 'Gravity' by Coldplay. Go find it on youtube, it's amazing!**

**Disclaimer: Quil and Claire don't belong to me :-(**

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"_Hi Claire." I envied him the perfectly even tone in his voice. He didn't sound ruffled at all, though his eyes were guarded._

"_Hi." I sat down on the couch, blushing uncontrollably. "We need to talk." _

"_You're right," he said quietly. "We do."_

xXx

We sat there awkwardly for a few long moments, neither of us saying a word. My heart was thrumming like crazy, so loudly I was sure he was able to hear it. Now that the moment had finally come to tell Quil the truth, the words stuck in my throat, as I'd been afraid they would. There was no un-embarrassing way to confess my feelings for him, and I almost wished I didn't have to, just so I could escape the humiliation that was surely coming my way. But then I saw the look in Quil's eyes, and I knew there was no more putting it off. Our relationship was in limbo, and the time had finally come for it to shoot straight to heaven, or sink fast into hell.

Hell seemed far more likely at the moment.

I licked my dry, cracked lips and took a deep breath. "Quil, I have something I need to tell you—you probably already know, but I can't keep going on like this anymore—"

He held up a hand, interrupting me. "Can I go first Claire?" My brow knitted in confusion, my heart sank; he wasn't even going to give me a chance to explain before shooting me down completely. I squared my shoulders, as if tensing for a blow, sure his rejection would hurt far more than an actual physical strike.

"Ok…"

Quil took his own deep breath. He sat slumped forward on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his head in his hands. And then he raised his eyes to mine, and there was something _burning _in them, something so intense that I could hardly look at him, but his gaze held mine hypnotically, and I was unable to look away.

He reached over and gently took my hand in his own much larger one, his heat saturated my skin. "I know I've been treating you like crap the past couple days, and I'm sorry, I just needed time to get everything straight, to figure out what I would say…." He swallowed nervously. "There's something you need to know Claire, about you and me, and I didn't want to tell you this so soon, but what happened on the beach the other day—" I flushed at the memory, "—made me realize I can't put it off any longer. You were right, something _is_ happening between us, and I know I'll probably sound crazy and I won't make any sense, but I don't know any other way."

He was speaking very fast, the words leaving him in a rush, almost as if he could not keep them inside any longer. I wasn't used to seeing him so unsure, and his sudden vulnerability made me want to reach out and comfort him, so I wrapped both my hands around his, massaging gently, trying to ease his tension.

"There are so many things I want to tell you, but I'm afraid of scaring you. I'm afraid of pushing you into something you're not ready for—"

"Quil, whatever it is, just tell me."

My words seemed to be the cue he needed. He stared down at our interlaced fingers and began to speak.

"Do you remember," he said, his voice very soft, "the bonfire, when you heard the old tribal legends? When I finally told you what I was?"

I nodded, feeling more confused than ever. What did that night have to do with _this_, with what was happening between us now?

"Do you remember the second story my grandfather started telling—the one about Taha Aki and the third wife?"

I nodded slowly, recalling the love story that I hadn't expected to hear, but instantly loved. "You wouldn't let me stay for the ending." The fury I'd felt when he dragged me away from the fire and Old Quil's evocative mesmerizing words washed over me. "I was so mad at you!" I closed my eyes, trying to picture that night clearly. "But you told me that I would hear it again someday."

"I did," he agreed.

"But Quil, that was years ago, what does any of that have to do with what's going on right now?"

"It has _everything_ to with this!" he exclaimed. "I used to think those old tribal stories, like the ones you heard at the bonfire were just superstitious legends. I didn't believe in vampires, or werewolves, but after I phased for the first time, those stories took on a whole new meaning for me. You see, everything we need to know about being a werewolf is in them, passed on from one generation to the next so nothing will be forgotten—our beginnings, how to kill bloodsuckers—explanations for each strange, new complication that comes with the territory.

"The second story you heard at the bonfire about Taha Aki and the third wife is like that. It's _more _than just a love story; it's about something that happens to werewolves, something very rare. Taha Aki was a great warrior, the first of our kind and that gift that he gave his descendents is a huge reason why the Quileutes have lasted so long. His wolf form kept him from aging, and he lived the lifespan of three men—he could have lived forever I suppose, but he met a young woman, and in her he found his true spirit wife—you would call her his soul mate. Only to Taha Aki it was even _stronger _than that_**, **_more absolute."

He took a deep breath, trying to explain. "It doesn't happen very often, but sometimes when we see the _one_ the first time after we start phasing, something inside of us—whatever it was that we inherited from Taha Aki—recognizes in that person something we can't live without. We call it _imprinting_. It happened to the very first werewolf, it happened to Sam and Emily, and Jared and Kim… and it happened to me when I saw you for the first time."

"Wha- what?" I stuttered. His hand tightened around mine.

"I was sixteen and had just joined the pack when you and Colleen came to La Push to visit Emily." A slight smile touched his lips. "You were playing in the dirt, you had leaves in you hair, and you reached for me…

"I couldn't understand at first what was happening… I still don't know how to explain it. It's like my entire world re-oriented itself, it all shifted and suddenly _you_ were at the center of everything. When I saw you Claire, I didn't have a choice anymore. You became the most important thing in the world to me and I knew that I would be in your life forever.

"It's why I was always over at your house, following you around like a shadow. It's why I told you I was a werewolf. It's probably why I'm still alive today—only _you _could have called me back from the brink of death. You're the only thing important enough."

His eyes were fixed searchingly on my face, trying to coax a reaction out of me, but I felt strangely detached from what he was saying. It didn't sound real—it didn't even sound possible! I had come to his house with my own confession to make, expecting rejection, and instead Quil's revelation left _me _speechless. The strange twist our conversation had taken left me too stunned to even think straight.

I tried to process his words… Quil was telling me that he had… _imprinted_ on me? That we were connected somehow, but I didn't understand what it meant. I was still reeling from the fact that he had put us in the same category as my aunt and uncle and Jared and Kim. Did he think that someday we'd be like them?

"But what does that mean?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper my throat was so dry. "What does imprinting _mean_?"

"It means… that I belong to you," he said hesitantly, his eyes wary. It was like he was tip-toeing around something, but my dazed brain could not make sense of it. "It means that I'll be whatever you want, whatever you need me to be, because I was made for you."

"But what do _you _need?" I pressed. "What do _you _want?"

"I want you to be happy," he said simply. His voice was strangely vehement. "I promised myself that you'd never feel forced into this, like you had no options. You're so young, and I meant to tell you everything when you were older."

His hand, which was still resting on my lap, rose to my face as he brushed back a long strand of hair. His fingers lingered on my cheek. "Please Claire; tell me what you're thinking?"

"I'm thinking… that I'm confused."

"Tell me what you don't understand and I'll try to explain."

I thought for a long second. "My aunt and Sam, and Jared and Kim—they imprinted too?" I stumbled a little at the unfamiliar word.

Quil nodded. "Jared and Kim went to high school together; he sat next to her every day for a year but had never spoken to her before. And then, after he phased the first time, he went back to school, saw her, and never looked away."

"And they got married…"

Quil froze, finally understanding my roundabout questions. "I don't expect that Claire! I mean someday way in the future—if you wanted to—" he flushed under his dark skin and ran the fingers of his free hand through his hair, tousling it so it stuck up every which way. I resisted the urge to smooth it back down.

"You were only two when imprinted Claire, and there are no stories that tell me what to do, or how to act, or what to say. So I decided I'd just take everything as it came. And I have no expectations, and I don't want anything from you unless you _want_ to give it to me. Whenever or never."

"But what do you feel Quil? Tell me what I mean to you."

_Do you love me?_ That was the real question I wanted so badly to ask—imprinting, everything else didn't matter one tiny bit if he didn't. But for the life of me, I couldn't say the words.

Quil's eyes met mine, and for the first time they were unguarded. "It's like there's a cord between us Claire, connecting me to you and it _pulls_ on me when I'm away from you. I feel it all the time, every single second until I see you again. Being apart from you…it's—it's like trying to move against gravity. I_ can't _do it."

His words! Oh, I wanted to melt… but this was not normal—it was the exact opposite of normal. And it wasn't love. It was a compulsion. A need not a want, and the difference seemed too glaring to ignore.

I was completely overwhelmed. Quil was telling me that every feeling I'd ever had for him was ok, that it wasn't strange or perverse, but completely expected. It was supposed to happen this way.

Then why didn't I feel happier?

_Because it wasn't his choice_, a voice in my head whispered. Because that freaky werewolf side of him had taken the decision right out of his hands.

Did he love me—really love me—more than he loved child-Claire? Did he want me? My heart ached as I realized that there was no free will in this for him, no other options. Somehow I managed a weak smile trying to reassure him.

"This is yourchoice Claire; I don't want you to be forced into anything."

"_You_ were. You didn't get a choice."

"That doesn't matter," he said softly. "Don't worry about me. This is about whatever makes you happy."

_You make me happy. _I bit back the words. "I need to—I don't know, I need time to think about this," I said quietly.

"Of course, take as long as you want."

I felt guilty. He was trying to make this as easy as he could for me, he was being so careful and what did he get for it?  
"This probably isn't what you were expecting is it? My reaction I mean," I managed another weak smile.

"Actually, I was afraid you were going to run screaming from the room. This is going a lot better."

"Still…"

The grin on his face faded, he leaned forward—his voice serious. "Take whatever time you need Claire, make whatever decision you're comfortable with, or no decision at all. I wanted to be honest. You deserve the whole story."

I nodded.

"Emily said—" My head snapped up, I looked at him sharply. "No—never mind what Emily said."

"No I want to know," I insisted. Horrible visions ran through my mind… did she tell him about our conversation?

"Well, she said that maybe you were afraid…that your feelings for me were changing but you didn't know if it was allowed. I just wanted you to know—you're allowed."

I nodded, my face flushing hotly.

Quil cleared his throat nervously. "This morning, you came here wanting to tell me something…" he trailed.

I pulled my hand out of his like it was on fire, clenching it at my side. I couldn't meet his eyes. The words, which had never been easy to say, were now_ too_ out of place for this conversation… because if I said them, I knew what would happen. Quil had alluded to it many times: _whatever _you_ want Claire. _If I told him the truth—that _he_ was what I wanted, he would give in, even if he didn't feel the same way, and I was bitterly aware that Quil had said all the words except the ones I wanted most desperately to hear. How could I be selfish enough to ask for something he would only give because he _had_ to.

I couldn't do that to Quil. I loved him too much.

"No," I shook my head. "No it was nothing, it doesn't matter."

xXx

Quil walked me back to Aunt Emily's soon after that. She looked up at me when I walked in, but the expression on my face must have warned her to stay away. I walked past the kids and up to my room where I closed the door lightly behind me.

Finally, I could think! I lay down on the bed and pulled the covers over me, trying to slow down the barrage of thoughts in my head.

If Quil had only just said, "I love you," I would have thrown myself into his arms. Was imprinting really any different? He was telling me that he was made for me, that he was _more_ than my soul mate, that I had power over him. And that was _better_ than plain love… for me at least.

But what about Quil?

Maybe if I hadn't known him all my life, if I had only seen his love and had never known him as a brother and friend, I could convince myself that he really _wanted _me and wasn't just stuck. Because that's what it felt like. He'd never gotten the choice to pick his own life, his own love… whatever strange claim I had on him had made him stay by me for fourteen years. And I was selfishly glad of that claim for _my sake, _because otherwise—and without a second backwards thought—he would have walked away from that little two year old girl, and she would have grown up never knowing what true comfort and happiness felt like.

But Quil… what had those fourteen years been like for him? I couldn't even begin to imagine life tied to a child. But I knew one thing: I wanted him to want me _despite_ imprinting. I wanted to be more than his compulsion, his instinct, I wanted to be his choice.

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**A/N: Umm, yeah, I warned you it wouldn't be fluffy... So what do you think?**


	18. Chapter 18: Fire

**I meant to post this much, much earlier, but my internet crashed this morning, and it _just _came back! Which means I didn't get to watch the new Twilight trailer until 5 minutes ago! Torture! But how awesome was it though? Totally worth the wait. I seriously can't wait for December... what did you guys think of it?**

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It's funny how the world changes when you learn some old, important secret. How your life turns upside down and all the little things that never mattered before suddenly take on new, sharper meanings. How old conversations and glances that seemed harmless at the time, change drastically when seen in a different context. And after my day of revelations with Quil I felt as though I was seeing the whole world with different eyes, and suddenly everything had gone from black and white to color.

The week that followed passed by achingly slow. To avoid awkward afternoons with Quil, I made plans Katie almost every single day and we would go to the movies or the beach if it was nice out. Quil looked a little hurt the first time I asked him to leave using my Katie excuse but he went quietly just the same. All his subsequent visits had been brief, unless Colleen or Katie was around. Somehow, it was easier to pretend that nothing had changed when we had to pretend for other people.

Because it had changed—everything, even worse then when it was just an unnamed tension between us. A little pang stabbed my heart whenever I thought about it. Quil was so careful with me now, cautiously gauging my response before he did or said anything, trying so hard to be the best friend of the old days. He never brought up our talk, and I was glad for that. I wasn't ready to talk about it with anyone, most especially him.

But even if we never brought it up, that conversation hung in the background of every visit. Every time I looked into Quil's eyes, I saw again the look in them when he said, "I was made for you Claire."

I was breaking his heart…and mine, but I was too cowardly to make any kind of move.

Part of me, a part that was growing bigger and more insistent every second, wanted to just give in and let myself kiss him, reach out and touch him, and tell him that he was the only thing I wanted, especially now that I knew I was allowed to want him. But I held myself tightly in check. There was too much to think through, too many questions. And then there was imprinting…. I could hardly wrap my mind around that.

I could have talked to Emily, I knew. She had been in my shoes once, had probably felt the same hesitancy and uncertainty that I was feeling now, and I knew that she would answer all my questions… but inexplicably, I wanted Quil to be the one to explain. I wanted to hear it from him and no one else.

xXx

Colleen's birthday was in late August, and she, unlike me, enjoyed the spectacle that her birthday parties usually became. It was always interesting to be at my house during one of them; people came from everywhere—family and friends from the Neah Bay, La Push and Forks, with everyone else— from everywhere else turning up anyway. It wasn't long before our house was over flowing with people, some of whom I'd never even met before.

Quil had arrived early, but he mostly kept out of my way and stayed by Sam and Emily's sides all afternoon, giving me space so I could talk with Katie. Beth, the girl we knew slightly from school, who had been at the bonfire in La Push found us midway through the afternoon. I wasn't exactly thrilled when sat down beside us, especially when practically the first words out of her mouth were about Quil.

I guess she hadn't forgotten her silly infatuation with him either.

"Is he still single?" she whispered in my ear, subtly pointing in Quil's direction

I didn't even want to answer her, fierce jealousy flared up inside of me, and for one brief moment I was glad that Beth—or anyone else like her, had no chance with him. But the moment passed and the guilt returned. I paused, trying to give a truthful answer. "Sorry he's…taken."

Taken was a good word for what I'd done to him. Beside me, Beth let out a

groan. "It was inevitable I guess; a guy that good looking never stays single for long."

"Wait—" Katie interrupted. "Did I hear that right? Quil has a girlfriend?" Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Sort of," I replied, uncomfortably. "It's complicated. He's kind of been… involved with her for a long time. I just found out," I mumbled.

Katie was looking at me with a funny expression on her face. "But I thought—" her gaze passed between me and Quil, who was standing on the other side of the room with Sam. I shifted guiltily; Katie was too perceptive for her own good sometimes. "How do you feel about that?" she asked me quietly.

"It was a little unexpected," I said truthfully.

Her arm wrapped around my waist. "I'm sure it's not that serious," she consoled. I didn't say anything. After all, what was I supposed to tell her—no, sorry Katie, it's very, very serious, and I'm the girl, but that doesn't make me happy. She would never understand that.

When everyone was leaving, and my mom and Emily were outside hugging each other goodbye, Quil found me in my normal spot on the bench in the hall. He didn't sit beside me, but stood towering above me.

"How are you Claire?" he asked quietly. I smiled half-heartedly up at him, craning my neck to see his face.

"I'm fine, thank you." But the words sounded fake, even to me.

Quil knelt in front of me, his warm hands reaching out to cover my cold ones, which I kept clenched tightly together on my lap.

"I'm so sorry Claire," he whispered, his voice sad. He sounded so sincere, and so upset that before I could stop them, hot tears trickled down my face.

"It's not your fault," I whispered back. Slowly I leaned forward and hugged him, resting my head against his shoulder. My senses were overwhelmed with his smell, with the feel of him against me. There was nothing else like this in the entire world, nothing else that made me feel this way—like I was home.

Whatever else Quil was—made for me or not—he was my best friend first and foremost. The one person I could go to when I was upset. And that relationship at least, had nothing to do with imprinting.

But could I content myself with that? Could I push him away and tell him to forget imprinting, give him the chance to choose for himself? Could I give him up?

I sighed and wrapped my arms tighter around his neck. His hands were in my hair, lightly playing with the strands. This was as close as we'd gotten to the subject in weeks.

"I can't –I can't do this now," I mumbled into his shoulder, still clutching him to me tightly. I wasn't ready to give up being selfish, not prepared for the sacrifice yet. He rubbed my shoulders and I felt him nodding.

"Don't worry Claire. I meant what I said… as long as you need, as much as you need." He started to pull away and I reluctantly let him, though my arms felt dull and empty without him in them.

"I got you a present," he smiled.

I tried to match his grin, but failed. "It's not my birthday for another three months Quil," I chided lightly, but his sweet puppy- dog face was irresistible. "What is it?"

He held out a necklace in his large hand. Nestled on a delicate silver chain, was an intricately, perfectly carved wolf—and the wood was exactly the same color chocolate as Quil's fur. "My friend Jake made them for us, a long time ago. His father, Billy taught him how."

"It's beautiful," I sighed, tracing each line that brought Quil so unequivocally to mind.

"I can't really wear it, it's inconvenient since I'm always phasing, but I thought you might like it instead."

"Do you think Jake will be mad if you give it to me?"

"Nah, he understands."

I took the necklace and held it tightly. "It's perfect." Quil reached out cautiously to wipe away the tears on my face. I caught his wrist with my hand and ran circles across his skin with my thumb, as we stared at each other, each unable to look away.

"Quil?" Sam's voice called from outside. "We're leaving."

Quil sighed, but stood, and smiled. "I'll see you soon," he promised, before turning away. I followed him to the door and watched him get in the car with Sam and Emily. Quil's necklace felt heavy in my hand, as if reminding me of its presence. I looked at it again, closer this time, at all the small details and marveled at how realistic Jacob had made it—it looked almost like it could spring to life at any moment.

The little wolf rested right on my breastbone when I fastened it around my neck. I looked at myself in the hallway mirror—the thin silver cord stood out against my dark skin, the wolf fell at exactly the right spot. It looked like it belonged there, like it was meant to be there forever.

xXx

The rest of August passed quickly, and then—too soon, it was time to go back to school. I hated to admit it, but I was almost looking forward to it, for one thing, school meant a lot less free time, and less free time meant less Quil time. It made me heartsick to admit, but though things were easier between us after Colleen's birthday, they were not much better.

Quil had gone back completely to his role of older brother and friend. He joked and played around, constantly trying to make me laugh. It was as if he was trying to reassure me that things could still be normal after all. But sometimes, when he thought I didn't know, I felt his eyes on me and I knew the expression in them was one he wouldn't want me to see. I wore his wolf charm all the time, tucked underneath the collar of my shirt so no one would see it, like a private talisman.

One unseasonably cool afternoon, I was in Colleen's room. She was home for the weekend from U.W, and had brought every single piece of clothing she owned—which was all dirty—home to be washed. She'd roped me into helping fold all her clean laundry while she haphazardly shoved her sheets and comforter into a trash bag.

"Did something happen between you and Quil?" she asked suddenly, lying back on her bare bed.

My head snapped up at the unexpected question. "None of your business!"

Her face broke out into a huge grin. "Ahh. You finally told him that you're in love with him?" I glared at her. If only it were that simple. "You can talk to me about it you know Claire."

"No I can't,' I mumbled.

"Did he take it badly?" she asked gently. Reluctantly, I shook my head. She smiled. "I always thought you guys were sort of inevitable you know. You probably don't realize how in tune you are with him, how you respond to him. It's the same way with him you know—like you're the center of his world."

I stared at my sister, openmouthed. How had she been able to see what I had been so blind to? Color suffused my face, and I ducked my head, trying to make it less obvious. "It's a little more complicated than that Colleen."

"Why? Because he's older? I'll admit it kind of freaked me out when I first realized, but so what? You're almost seventeen now and he never looks any different. Besides, if he's your soul mate then age doesn't matter."

"I don't want to talk about this. Thank you, but… you don't know the whole story." I couldn't keep the defensive edge out of my voice.

"You're just scared because he loves you—" she accused. "You're scared of how perfect he is! Stop being stupid Claire, have some confidence; you are worth it."

"You don't know everything—you don't know what Quil thinks about me. Did it ever occur to you that maybe he doesn't feel the same way about me?"

Her eyes narrowed. "But he does, doesn't he?" She leaned towards me. "I've known you your whole life Claire; you can't hide things from me." Her face softened; "he really freaked you out, didn't he?"

"…I—I just never thought it was possible."

She nodded. "I'm going to give you some sisterly advice: don't do anything stupid to mess this up. He's walking on eggshells around you, trying so hard not to freak you out—get over yourself and let yourself be happy. Stop sabotaging it. You'll never do any better than Quil."

I stood up, glaring at her. Colleen could talk all she wanted, but she had no clue what was going on—she should mind her own business! Her voice called me back.

"Emily called; she wanted me to ask you if you'd like to go to the bonfire down in La Push tomorrow night."

That stopped me completely. I had forgotten all about it. "I've never been allowed to go to that before," I frowned.

"Well, Emily wants you there. She said Quil would come get you."

Every year the pack had one last end- of- the- summer bonfire in September, at one at one of the deserted beaches around La Push. It was such a tradition for them that even if it was freezing, sleeting, or hurricane-ing they'd still go. I'd been hearing about it for years, but Quil and Emily always said I was too young because they stayed out all night. After a few years, I had stopped asking, resigned that I would never be old enough.

I wondered what my sudden inclusion to this tradition meant—did Emily finally think I was old enough… or was it Quil who wanted me there this year?

The next afternoon, Quil and I were making the hour and a half drive to La Push. Miraculously, it hadn't rained in almost a week and the ground was almost dry. It was a little warmer than average, but I knew the temperature would drop off during the night. Not exactly freezing, but I was still worried about spending the night on the beach, but of course, if I got desperate, there were plenty of werewolves around to keep me warm.

We didn't talk much during the drive; I think Quil sensed that I wasn't in the mood to force small talk. I was grateful for his silence; it meant that I had two hours to think. I'd come to the decision the night before that things couldn't go on the way they were anymore. I would crack trying to keep a smile on my face for him, and he would break trying so hard to keep it there. It wasn't fair to Quil to keep him in uncertainty; I was finally going to have stop being selfish, and accept whatever consequences came my way.

Brady and Collin were adding logs to a roaring bonfire when we arrived, an enormous pile of wood was stacked beside them. They waved at me when Quil and I walked up and joined Emily and Sam, Kim and Jared, Paul and Rachel, who were sitting next to Collin's new girlfriend—a woman I didn't know; everyone else was settled comfortably around the fire. Embry and Seth were nowhere to be found.

"Hey Claire," Emily said, pulling me into a hug. "I haven't seen you since Colleen's birthday party."

"I've been busy with school, junior year is pretty hard."

"So Quil's been telling me,' her gaze flickered to his face. I blushed to the tips of my ears as guilt washed through me. They probably all thought I was being an unforgivable bitch, God knew I did.

He cleared his throat and introduced me to Collin's girlfriend. "Claire, this is Sara."

"Hi," I smiled at her and she waved across the fire at me. Collin sat down beside her; he kissed her cheek, his arm was draped over her possessively, protectively. I wondered if he'd imprinted on her too… I thought Quil would have told me if he did though?

As I looked around the fire, I realized that the only people who were there were the pack and their significant others. Billy who usually presided over any kind of meeting was absent. Out of the darkness, Seth and Embry emerged and settled down among the group.

It began much like any other pack get together I'd ever been to. Mountains of food were passed around, and I watched Quil and the rest of the them consume more food than I'd ever seen anyone eat before. Ever. It almost took away my appetite, but Emily's cooking was too good to be passed up.

Everyone joked and told funny stories. I didn't join in, only listened and watched, feeling like I was seeing everything for the first time. And maybe I was, now that I understood everything so much better. It was easy to see the camaraderie, the closeness that existed between this group, the protectiveness and love that they felt for each other. Quil was as relaxed as I'd seen him in months as he re-told some story about the pack in their youth. It shocked me when I realized that I hadn't heard him really laugh in so long.

The air grew colder as the night wore on, and I watched everyone snuggle closer to their mate, letting themselves be wrapped up in warmth. But I only pulled my coat tighter around myself and fought not to shiver in the cold wind. It seemed like such a couples thing to do, to lean into Quil, too personal and loving; it didn't seem fair to ask that of him when I couldn't give him the love he wanted in return.

Midnight came and went, the fire burned lower and the moon shone brilliantly above us. No else one seemed to be getting tired, but it was much later than my usual bedtime, especially during the school year. As the youngest person in the group, I bit back my yawns: I didn't need everyone thinking I was a baby. So I only rested my chin on my knees, and tried to concentrate on the conversation around me and not the lulling rhythm of the waves as they crashed along the rocky shore.

It was a losing battle, just like trying to keep warm in only my jacket was beyond useless. Reluctantly I leaned into Quil's side, sighing as his arms wrapped tightly around me, rubbing my back, and my body was suffused with his sudden warmth. I envied how he could stay so warm—after all he was only wearing a long sleeved shirt and down vest, but he felt so good, I couldn't find it in me to hate him too much. I buried my head in his shoulder and lost the battle against sleep once and for all.

Everything was warm, and unbelievably soft, yet somehow hard at the same time when I woke; I stretched and sighed, feeling disoriented. Someone's arms tightened around me. Instinctively, I stiffened as I remembered who's arms I had fallen asleep in.

Only… I had fallen asleep with my head on Quil's shoulder, but now I somehow found myself settled across his lap. The back of my head was pillowed against his shoulder, his arms encircled my waist, keeping me in place tight against him. It felt a hundred times more intimate…a hundred times more wonderful…and hundred times more dangerous.

I pretended that I was just waking up, making a big production of yawning and stretching. I twisted so I could see Quil's face clearly in the fading firelight.

"What time is it?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Almost four."

"Where is everyone?" I looked around the bonfire and saw only Jared and Kim, who were lying on their backs, looking up at the stars. Music was playing softly in the background.

"They're around."

I sat up, and peered into the darkness, but couldn't see anything beyond the firelight. "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you. This can't be very comfortable for you." I slid off him, instantly regretting the loss of his warmth.  
"You'd be surprised how comfortable," he said quietly, a strange look in his eyes. "I didn't mind at all." I blushed, and was glad it was too dark for him to see.

"So, is this what you do every year—come to the beach and stay up all night?" He nodded. "Why?"

He shrugged. "It started years ago, back when we first started turning. It was just a fun thing to do, get out of the house and stay up all night. Then it sort of became tradition." A gust of wind blew off the water and I shivered. "Do you want to dance," he whispered into my ear.

"Dance?"  
He nodded. "That's what everyone else is doing: dancing. Don't you hear the music?"  
And I did; like a whisper it moved in the air around us, so softly that I couldn't even make out a specific song. Then, suddenly, my frantic heartbeat drowned out every other noise. The idea of being so close to Quil was intoxicating—I told myself it was only his warmth I missed, but I knew better. I stood up, and tucked my hand in his. Old memories came flooding back of another dance, and the music that we had made together.

Once we were away from the fire, and my eyes adjusted to the light, it was easier to see the swaying shapes that dotted the shore. Sam and Emily moved slowly at the edge of the surf; bright moonlight shimmered off the water, and reflected off her luminous hair. It was unbelievably beautiful and romantic. I wished I had a camera with me. Further down the beach I saw the circle made by all the unattached pack members; I wondered how strange and lonely it must be for them.

As soon as Quil's arms found their way around me again, I couldn't think of anything else. Pity was replaced with plain, pure want. I sighed and moved closer, pressing my face against his chest; the top of my head didn't even reach his shoulders. We stayed like that, moving slowly to the music that drifted along the shore. It felt like we were the only two people in the world, like time stood still and captured one perfect, endless moment for us.

Why did it feel so wonderfully good to be held by Quil? To have his hands running softly through my hair, running down along my back. Every touch made an ache grow in me, a longing that that only he could satisfy. Electricity hummed between us, and I knew he felt it too. A soft gasp escaped me when Quil's lips brushed the top of my head, and moved downward across my forehead.

Silently, closing my eyes tightly, I raised my face to his and he took advantage of the access as his mouth moved across my skin. He slowly kissed me everywhere—the tip of my nose, my chin, along the line of my jaw, my pulse-point, the edge of my mouth—everywhere but my lips. My breath came hard as his hands roamed across my body, moving everywhere over the thin material of my t-shirt.

And then, Quil stopped moving completely: he had found the wolf necklace, tucked underneath the collar of my shirt. Wordlessly, he pulled it out and stared at it for one long moment; it was the first time he had ever seen me wear it. His eyes blazed, full of an emotion too strong for words and suddenly, he lifted me off my feet like I was a child and crushed me against his chest, only I was holding on just as tightly. My legs wrapped around him as I threw my arms around his neck, running my hands through the silky softness of his hair.

And then, I did what I had wanted to do for as long as I could remember, I kissed Quil back—first the dent between his collarbone, then hollow place just underneath his ear and moved slowly across, along his neck and jaw. His skin was so smooth and it burned hotly beneath my lips. I had never felt anything so incredible. Everywhere I could reach, I kissed, everywhere but his lips. But when my mouth brushed across the skin just underneath his bottom lip, Quil's breath hitched and he pulled me away.

We were both breathing heavily, still holding onto each other tightly; the one thing in all this madness that actually made sense. I rested my forehead against his; trying to somehow get myself back to normal again though every inch of my skin was on fire.

"You should get some sleep Claire," he whispered, his voice rough. I nodded stupidly, wondering how I could possibly sleep ever again when this fire was inside of me. We hadn't even really kissed and still, I felt like I was going burst. Slowly, he set me on my feet. "Come on, we have blankets over here."

Quil made a bed for me on the sandy part of the beach. He handed me a sleeping bag and started to back away, but I caught his hand, able to think coherently for the first time.

"Are you kidding? You can't leave me, I'll freeze." He looked at me pointedly for a few moments, and then hesitantly laid down beside me; I nestled against him, and pressed my back against his side for warmth. Slowly, despite his nearness, my heart returned to its normal rhythm. As the gentle crashing of the waves and Quil's soft breathing next to me lulled me to sleep, I realized that tomorrow, I was finally going to have to tell him the truth. I was finally going to stop being selfish, before this unbelievable tension between us carried us past the point of no return.

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**Quil giving a wolf charm to Claire isn't an original idea, but is from Alice laughed and her brilliant story _Dear Diary,_ which is, I'm sure why we are all reading/ writing Quil and Claire fan fics these days. **

**I got thirty reviews last chapter, which is the _most _reviews I've ever gotten for an update. Yay! You guys rock! I felt so guilty when it took me so long to get this out. I promise I'll be better about it from now on. **

**Please Review **


	19. Chapter 19: Confessions

**A/N: The song for this chapter is 'Make You Feel My Love,' by whichever artist you prefer, and I was also listening to 'Wild Horses,' by Alicia Keys and Adam Levine. There's a live performance of it on youtube, and it is amazing!!**

**So this chapter began as a one- shot way back in February, before I started writing ATPOG. It's been completely re-written and only bits and pieces are the same, but it still feels really nice to finally be posting the chapter that started it all for me. **

**Enjoy!**

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Everything was warm, deliriously, deliciously, amazingly warm when I woke. Instinctively, I snuggled in closer to the heat, burying my face into the softness of someone's t-shirt clad shoulder. Cold air nipped at the side of my neck—the only exposed part of me, and I moaned sleepily, trying move away from the icy wind.

Quil's arm snaked around me, his hand threading through my loose hair as he shifted to his side until he was facing me, and his large fingers rested lightly on my cold skin, suffusing it with warmth. I mumbled my thanks, pressing in closer. Wait…

_Quil._

I froze in surprise. Last night wasn't a dream—at least I hoped it wasn't a dream. This felt so good, too good really, and if I opened my eyes and found myself alone, I knew the disappointment would all but kill me. I breathed in his scent deeply, trying to memorize it— he smelled of salt water and pine, and himself. I buried my face deeper into his shoulder.

Whatever this was, it was a million times better than real life.

"Claire," his voice mumbled into my ear. At the sound, my eyes shot open.

Not a dream then…. Though it looked like one. Morning fog had rolled in off the water and it was so thick that I couldn't see past my hand. I didn't know exactly what time it was, but it felt very early. I raised my head, trying to get my bearings and saw that Quil and I lay wrapped up together, and somehow all the blankets were on me. I wondered if that had been Quil's doing, or if I'd stolen them during the night. Oh well, it wasn't like he needed the extra warmth anyway. The blankets were the only bit of color in the strange, monochromatic haze I had woken up to. We were cocooned in a pearly grey, utterly silent mist that made me feel like we were the only two people alive.

I shivered lightly, and Quil's arms automatically tightened around me in his sleep. I wanted to stay here, I realized. In his arms. I wanted to go to sleep in them every night, and wake up in them every morning. My mind was suddenly barraged with images so sweet and loving, that they stung.

Very carefully, I pulled away from Quil, moving until our bodies were a foot apart, but still facing each other. The sudden loss of contact made me feel empty, so I reached out and held his hand firmly in mine.

It's a strange thing, watching someone while they're sleeping, like catching a rare glimpse of the other side of a person. I don't know how long I stayed there, just watching him, but long enough to commit to memory the sight of his chest as it rose and fell with each breath, his slightly parted lips, his eyelashes… Quil looked different, younger and more vulnerable some how. He looked happy.

The knot in my stomach tightened as Quil began to stir in his sleep. He opened his eyes lazily, smiling when his hazy eyes focused on me.

"Good morning," I whispered.

"Morning." He stretched, rolling on to his back briefly, before turning back to me, locking our still clasped hands tighter together.

"You look tired," I said, my fingers unwillingly reaching out to trace the dark circles under his eyes.

"I didn't get much sleep last night." His grin grew wider and my skin burned in embarrassment; I could guess why. "Please don't be embarrassed Claire," he said, his voice very soft. He began rubbing circles into my thumb.

"So where is everyone?" I asked too quickly, trying to change the subject.

He shrugged. "Still sleeping probably, it's very early."

"Can they hear us?"

"I doubt it. Everyone's pretty spread out; they wanted their privacy." He winked at me.

"Eww! Too much information Quil!" I laughed, punching him lightly on the shoulder, and for a moment, it felt exactly like old times. As our laughter faded, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that _now_ was the right time. I'd put this talk off long enough.

I sat up quickly, pulling my hand out of his. Quil mimicked my movement, frowning slightly. I pulled my knees up against my chest, and took a deep breath.

"I'm ready to talk about this," I said, my voice very quiet. Quil didn't even have to ask what I was talking about. It had been on his mind too.

"You don't have to, you know," he said hurriedly. "This doesn't need to be a big deal." I realized with a shock, that he sounded afraid.

I shook my head. "Yes it does; this is a _huge_ deal! And everything's been so weird between us lately, and it's going to keep on being weird until we get everything out in the open!"

Our eyes met and we shared one long glance; at last he gave an almost imperceptible nod.

I took a deep breath.

"I'm not going to do this to you Quil; I'm not going to be selfish."

"What are you talking about Claire?" he asked, leaning towards me. The look in his eyes scared me; the peaceful, happy look he'd woken up with was gone.

"What would happen if…if I chose _not_ to be your soul mate?" Quil looked at me sharply, searchingly, but I kept my face carefully blank. I wanted to hear his answer. Finally, he spoke, in slow measured tones. Careful, ever so careful.

"If that was what you wanted…. Claire I'll always be exactly what need me to be for you. If you need me to be just your friend, then that's what I'll be. You know I'd do whatever it takes to make you happy, be whatever you need."

"What if _you_ met someone else?"

"You don't understand, that choice was taken out of my hands the first time I saw you."

"That's the part I hate," I said quietly.

"What? That I don't have a choice?" He was angry, his gaze hooded, his voice tightly controlled.

_Why am I doing this_?

Was it worth it to put him through all this? Yes, the little voice in my mind whispered. After all, he'd simply said I was his imprint—as if that explained everything! Yes, he told me the story, said that gravity moved and it was out of his hands. But I wanted to be his choice!

"There must have been other girls Quil. It's been 15 years, that's a long time."

He looked angrier than I'd ever seen him. "There is no one else! You're the only one!"

I tried to keep my breathing even, tried to make my blush fade, and my heartbeat slow. He noticed though, I saw his head tilt closer to me, watching. I suddenly had to get away from him, it was making me dizzy being so close, weakening my resolve.

I stood up and walked to the edge of the water, kicking stones.

"Did I go too fast for you?" he asked quietly, his voice in my ear. I jumped; it unsettled me that he could move so fast so quietly.

"Quil!" I protested, putting a hand to my heart, trying to quiet it.

"I was afraid I'd scare you, but you seemed to… _want_ me. I guess it made me bolder than I should have been, made me tell you sooner than I would've otherwise." He leaned in closer till there was barely an inch between our bodies, but his sparking heat shrunk that small space, making it feel like nothing at all. I could feel his breath along my cheek. "Did I scare you?" he asked again, his voice so soft it made my knees weak.

"No, you didn't scare me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. He must have noticed what he was doing to me, because he went to sit on the blanket again.

"Yes I did." He sounded so angry with himself. I turned to look at him. His eyes, his deep, beautiful hazel eyes were hurt. I sat down beside him and caught his hand in my own. "It was a tough line to walk—between being your friend and being… more. When I first imprinted on you I never thought about the future, I just let things change when it felt right. I watched you grow up, from a sweet baby to a funny kid, to my best friend … and then, that day on the beach I couldn't lie to myself and pretend that things weren't changing again. It all came crashing down around me; you weren't a little kid anymore, and it _felt _like you wanted me, but maybe I was just letting my own feelings get in the way."

"Feelings?" I asked timidly. My heart had jumped at the word. I'd take whatever feelings he had, big or small, as long as it wasn't just imprinting.

But Quil didn't answer; only stared off towards the ocean—not that he could see anything through the fog.

"That's what scared me," he whispered, so low I had to strain to hear him. "It wasn't having to wait fifteen years, it was figuring out what to say to you, how to make you understand…. What if you never saw me as more than an older brother? What if I was never more than your best friend? What if you said no?" His eyes shot to mine.

"And now… I know I can live with it Claire. I_ will_ be your friend, if that's all you can give me, but I can't leave you, I can't ever leave you." Quil's grip on my hand tightened, and yet, it was so gentle at the same time.

I leaned against his shoulder, which was suddenly tense, but he wrapped his arm around me. I could feel myself weakening, being pulled into this magnetic electricity that never let me free. With some part of my mind that wasn't completely overwhelmed, I felt wetness on my cheeks. I was crying. I lay my head on his shoulder, as he pulled me closer to him.

"Does that make you sad?" he asked tentatively, lightly brushing away my tears. I ran my hands through his beautiful black hair. He smelled so good, he felt so good.

"I'm only sad for you." And it was true, I could care less about me, about my lack of choice—there was no choice but Quil anyway. There never had been.

I was suddenly too close to Quil; I needed space in between us so he wouldn't see what was so plainly on my face, in my eyes. "I wish it didn't have to be this way for you," I mumbled under my breath. This was my last chance to back away from him. "I wish you had a _choice_ Quil. I wish you got to make up your own mind about who you loved and that you didn't have to wait so long for me. I wish you weren't _stuck_ with me… you deserve so much better!"

Quil's eyes flashed. "Is that all that's stopping you?" he practically growled in disbelief. "You're afraid I'm stuck?"

"Isn't that enough?" I shot back.

"I don't know what I have to say to you to make you understand," he took me by the shoulders, and shook me gently. "This isn't a trap for me! I'm not giving anything up; I'm not doing anything I don't want to be doing! Why would I ever want anyone else, when I could have you—like this?" He nuzzled my neck, making me dizzy again. "No other girl could have the pull that you have over me." His voice changed. Became slower, intense. "And if you ever wanted anyone else, well… I wouldn't stand in your way. I never wanted you to feel forced Claire, or miss out.

"But I would always be there," his eyes were burning into mine until I was sure he could see every bit of me, every part I'd tried to keep hidden, every desire for him I'd ever had. I wasn't even sure I could look away if I wanted to…_ if_ I wanted to. His fingers moved in achingly slow circles across my shoulders and back, holding me close to him.

"I'd follow you wherever you went, give up anything for you. I'd watch you fall in pretend love, but it would_ my_ shoulder you cried on when your heart broke—and it would break—it would be _me_ you turned to for comfort, to laugh with, to tell everything to. I'd make any man you loved so jealous he couldn't breathe.

"And eventually you'd realize that no one else's kiss could set you on fire like mine can, and one else's touch can satisfy you." His face moved even closer to mine. "No one else can love you the way that I love you—more, deeper, forever. You're the only woman in the world for me—the only one I'll ever want." His breath left him in one long, slow exhale.

"I love you Claire."

His words reverberated through me. _Love, love, love._ He loved me!

"Please breathe," he whispered, resting his burning forehead against mine.

I sucked in air as if I'd never tasted it before, and it still wasn't enough. Would anything ever be enough again?

"I should have told you that in the beginning, but I was afraid of scaring you."

I raised my eyes to his, and what I saw there made me want to start crying again. How many years had I loved him?—and I never thought I would see _that_ look in his eyes—love, mixed in with want. And I knew those feelings well enough.

I buried my face in his shoulder, feeling for a second like I was five years old again and I'd gone to the one place I knew would stay the same, no matter how crazy the rest of the world got. Quil's arms.

Only, I was so, so glad I wasn't five years old. As scary as it was, I wanted _this _Quil—who wasn't my father or brother, or best friend. I wanted the Quil that I was allowed to love and who loved me back, the one that made me shiver, who my knees go weak and my breath come short every time he looked at me.

"Say something," he begged.

His voice pulled me back. Slowly, I opened my eyes and pulled away from him slightly, just enough so he could see me clearly. With one shaking finger, I traced his jaw.

"The day that you told me about imprinting," I began. "Do you remember how there was something I wanted to tell you?"

"Yes."

I hesitated. It was hard to say, even now, when there was no possible chance of rejection. I had held this secret for so long it felt utterly bizarre to finally confess. "Well, I was going to tell you that… I love you," I said lamely. I was blushing more than I ever had in my life it felt like, to the very tips of my ears. I wanted badly to drop my head back into the crook of Quil's shoulder, but my weak confession didn't seem enough. "I'm in love with you Quil, you're the only one I ever wanted, even when I thought it was impossible. And that day on the beach, you weren't imagining anything." I reached up to kiss his cheek. "I wanted you so much…I _want _you so much."

"Oh," he said, slightly stunned. A slight smile broke out on his face. "God, I really wish I let you go first."

I burst into laughter, and the sudden release of tension felt amazingly good.

I hadn't understood at all I realized now, what Quil had been trying to tell me that morning when he finally let me in on the last, most important secret of his life. I'd been so afraid that imprinting was the_ only_ reason he was with me—and maybe when I was a baby, it was. But so what? It had given him time to fall in love with me—the natural, _real _way. Imprinting was only ever a beginning.

Since I was two years old Quil had been waiting, becoming whatever I needed him to be, however I needed him, filling the space as if he'd been there all along. I'd never be able to tell him how much it meant to me, every tear he'd wiped away, every laugh he'd given me, every hug, but as I leaned forward in his arms and kissed him—my first kiss—I knew I'd spend the rest of my life making up for it.

And he was right, gravity moved, the earth titled, the sun was eclipsed by something even brighter, even hotter as Quil gave me with his lips and his hands and his body, the answer to every question I'd ever had. No, I hadn't been ready before.

But I was now.

Before I lost all ability to talk and think straight, I broke away. His lips moved to my neck but I pulled his head up so I could see his hazel eyes. They were burning, just as his skin beneath my hands was burning.

I took a deep breath and stroked his face. "I love you Quil—" I whispered. "I've loved you my whole life, before I even knew what it meant."

Something flickered across his eyes as his lips met mine again, softer this time. "I love you too."

And finally, I knew he meant it.

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**Yay they kissed! Wow, this was a fun chapter to write :-) What do you think? Did it live up to your expectations?**


	20. Chapter 20: Going Slow

**A/N: 400 plus reviews!? What? You guys are awesome! I give everyone cookies and ice cream and chocolate… and whatever else you want. Thanks so much!**

**Okay, so everyone wants to know if the story is done, and the answer is no. Believe me, when it's finished I'll be putting a big, huge THE END at the bottom, along with an author's note :-) I'm guessing that there will be around 6-7 more chapters, plus an epilogue. **

**Don't worry, Quil and Claire are together now… they just need a bit more drama in their lives.**

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I wanted to stay on the beach with Quil forever, or at least for the rest of the day. There were still so many questions I wanted to ask him, stories I wanted to share and I was suddenly racing to make up for lost time. We had a little while at least, before the distant sounds of car doors being slammed and the dull roar of engines as they drove away officially announced the end of what had been the best night and morning of my life. The heavy mist lasted, giving us privacy, and Quil and I lay wrapped up in each other until I heard my uncle's voice calling for me.

"We're coming," Quil called back, and I groaned and buried my head in Quil's shoulder. He rubbed my back comfortingly. "Come on, your mom will be here soon to pick you up."

He pulled me into a sitting position and combed his fingers through my loose hair, trying to make it lie smooth and flat again, and not like he hadn't just spent the last twenty minutes with his hands tangled in it while we kissed and whispered together. I tried to do the same with his, but it refused to cooperate.

Finally he kissed the tip of my nose and helped me stand. "Let's get you back to Emily's."

It was surprising how natural it felt to hold Quil's hand and press myself against him while we walked, to lean my head on his shoulder while he drove, to stand on my tip-toes for a kiss that only yesterday I believed was impossible. I had thought it would be awkward and uncomfortable, this new shift in our relationship, but it wasn't, and I was grateful.

"Your mom's already here," Quil said, as we pulled up across the street from my aunt's house. I shifted in my seat and saw her car was in the driveway.

"Should I tell her about us, do you think?" I asked nervously, tugging on my jacket.

"She'll probably know as soon as she sees you."

I reeled back in alarm. "_Why_? Is it so obvious?"

Quil laughed. "You just look happy."

Unconsciously, I started to pull my wolf necklace back under the collar of my shirt, but Quil's hand caught mine, and drew it back out again. "Sorry, old habit," I explained.

"I like to see you wear it," he shrugged, raising his hand from the necklace to my face, cupping my chin. He kissed me once—very lightly—and drew away. "I'll call you tonight."

I grinned back, still dizzy, and opened the door and stumbled towards the house.

My mother and Emily were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea when I walked in, still feeling punch drunk. My face flooded with color instantly—I was sure they knew _exactly _what Quil and I had been doing out there in car.

I didn't trust myself to speak, so I just waved at them.

"Did you have a nice time," my mom asked, calmly stirring her tea. I could tell she wasn't fooled at all.

"The best."

I got out of the kitchen as soon as I could, using the excuse that I needed to brush my teeth and change. I did everything as slowly as I could, but in no time at all it seemed, I was back in the kitchen, under my family's too-knowing eyes again.

"You want some breakfast Claire?" Emily asked. "I can make you some eggs."

"I'm fine, I think I'll just have some toast please." She stood up immediately and started taking out bread and her homemade strawberry jam.

"So you and Quil looked cozy together last night on the beach," my aunt teased, her eyes gleaming mischievously. I wanted to glare at her, but I knew it would give me away, so I dropped my eyes to her spotless floor.

"Mm-hmm."

"So everything's back to normal between you two then?" I nodded slightly, and she smiled. "I'm so glad; Quil's been very depressed lately."

I wondered how much he had confided in her, or Sam. Probably everything. I couldn't blame him.

Emily set a plate in front of me and kissed the top of my head. "I wanted you guys to figure it out for yourselves and I'm so glad you did," she murmured into my ear. "If you need anything, any advice—call me."

I turned to smile up at her, but caught the look on my mom's face.

Emily was one thing… I still had to face my mother.

She had always liked Quil well enough—loved him maybe—but I wondered if that would change as the boundaries of my relationship with Quil changed too. She knew more than I'd ever understood, and I realized that I had never, not once, talked with her about it. She deserved more than that.

I slid into the front seat of the car after Emily was sure I'd been well fed. I could not keep the nervous, guilty expression off my face.

"So you and Quil are together now?" She finally asked, after the silence had stretched on uncomfortably long.

I nodded, feeling my cheeks turning pink. "I've been waiting for this awhile now…. And you love him?" I nodded slightly. "You _really_ love him?" Her voice was pleading; I knew she needed reassurance

"I _really_ do mom, more than anything," I said quietly, raising my eyes to hers so she would see I wasn't lying.

She sighed. "It seems like yesterday that Emily was calling me, telling me some teenager had 'imprinted' on my daughter." Her laughter was nostalgic. "But you're not a baby anymore."

That conversation between Emily and my mother was one that I had always wondered about. I could never quite guess her reaction—obviously she had accepted Quil, but was there more to the story? "What did you do when Emily told you?"

"I—I freaked out." There was an edge to her laughter. "So she came up to explain things. At first I thought she was crazy, or maybe I was. Nothing she said made any sense; werewolves, imprinting, it was like another language…and then she told me about the accident that left her scarred. She didn't want to tell me, but she knew it would help me understand in the end. I cried—it felt like I was being forced to agree to an arranged marriage for you, and I was afraid that he would hurt you too. It scared me."

She pulled the car onto the shoulder of the road and took my hands in hers.

"I didn't let Quil see you for awhile; Emily told me how much it hurt him to be away from you, and that scared me even more. I didn't understand how he felt about you. And then one afternoon, I found Quil on the doorstep. He was very sweet and… he was hurting, I could see it very clearly. So I let him in, and when I saw how he was with you and heard his side of the story, I couldn't stand in the way anymore."

I squeezed her hand. "I'm glad."

"I hope so. Sometimes it felt like I was being a bad mother to you—not giving you a choice, I mean. It's nice to hear that I didn't do so badly." I reached across the seat and hugged her tightly. "If you're happy Claire, if he's what you _really_ want, then I'm so happy for you."

"I am." I said simply. There were so many other things I wanted to say: I wanted to thank her for letting Quil be a part of my life; for giving me the chance to get to know my best friend, and the time I needed to fall in love with him. Not many mothers would have been so understanding. "Thank you, mom," I whispered.

"Does Dad know—everything, anything?"

She shook her head, wiping the tears off her cheeks. "I couldn't tell him. He wouldn't have understood…and you know him, he's happier in his bubble."

I laughed and agreed—poor dad. "Should I tell him about me and Quil then?"

She shook her head. "Wait until you get engaged."

My eyes popped. "You know that's not going to be for awhile right?"

"It better be! She laughed. "You have no idea how glad I am that nothing started until you were almost seventeen!" She was suddenly serious. "But I know Quil will take good care of you. I trust him, and I trust you."

My mother's trust in Quil was well founded. After that morning on the beach, Quil was never quite as free and uninhibited as he'd been, much to my chagrin.

He was always so careful. His still dizzying kisses became more reserved and less frequent in the weeks that followed—quick hello kisses and somewhat longer goodbye kisses were all he allowed us. Still, he visited my house almost every day, and held my hand tightly in his, tracing circles with his thumb. I wondered about the change sometimes, missed the feel of his fingers pressing along my back and the little sounds he had made that unforgettable morning, but I was too self-conscious to bring the subject up.

xXx

"It's snowing!" I yelled, looking out the window. I could hardly believe it. It had never, _ever _snowed on my birthday before. And since my birthday was in mid-October, I had never expected it to. I stared outside in shock—sure, the Olympic Peninsula was currently under a cold snap from Canada, but _snow_? Giddy excitement bubbled up inside my chest, sure, it was a fluke, but I was not missing this chance! "Come on," I called, grabbing Quil's hand and dragging him outside.

A good inch of big fat white fluffy snowflakes covered the ground and stuck heavily to the tree branches; all the monotonous never-ending green and brown was suddenly brilliant and shimmering in the bright light that shone out from my house in the darkness. I tipped my head back, letting the enormous, wet flakes fall on my face, instantly melting as they slid down my warm cheeks. It was all so beautiful, almost heart achingly lovely.

Quil was watching me as I laughingly danced in the snow. I hadn't remembered to grab a jacket, but the air wasn't too cold and I was wearing a heavy sweater, not that I would have noticed the temperature anyway, I was too busy taking it all in.

"Let's go for a walk," I said, pulling on his arm, trying to move him towards the woods, but he didn't move.

"Not right now…."

"Why not?" My laughter died on my lips as I looked up at him, and saw the crease in between his eyes: he was worried. "What happened?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it," he smiled, trying to reassure me, but I wasn't fooled. He'd never turned down a walk before…

I crossed my arms, glaring at him, even though I'm sure the snow stuck on my eyelashes made me look ridiculous.

He sighed. "It really is nothing, the pack just came across a scent at the base of the mountains a few weeks ago. The trail went dead, and I'm sure it was nothing but I'd be happier if you stayed closer to home for a bit."

"You mean a vampire?" He nodded tersely.

So _that's_ why Quil had been sticking to my side like glue lately. I felt a slight twinge of disappointment—I'd thought _I _was the reason. "You could have told me Quil," I said gently.

"I didn't want to worry you." He looked frustrated. "You shouldn't even have to _think_ about that stuff."

"But I want to know—I want to know everything!" I exclaimed, resisting the urge to stamp my foot like a little girl. "Please don't keep secrets from me."

He squeezed my hand and pulled me towards him. I wrapped my arms around his stomach; he was so big he made me feel like a child, but I was used to it. "I'm sorry," he murmured into my ear. "Please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad," I said softly. "I can never mad at you. Come on, let's just have fun in the snow." I sprinted away from him and grabbed a handful of snow. Grinning wickedly, I threw it at him, but he ducked inhumanly fast and the snowball went sailing past him. "No fair!"

Afterwards, I lay on the ground, panting from the exertion. Quil stood over me, smiling triumphantly. He wasn't even winded.

Unwillingly, I tore my eyes off him and looked around me. Everything was a like a fairyland—a Currier and Ives Christmas card, I'd never seen my little yard look so enchanting. But the snow would be all gone in the morning, washed away and melted in the rain that was sure to come. Beautiful things never last long, I thought with a pang.

"I wish it could stay like this," I said to Quil. There were snowflakes stuck to my eyelashes, my breath came out in a white wisp of smoke.

"I do too." He leaned down and pulled me up, holding out his arms. I stepped obligingly inside them, and raised my face for one of those all too brief kisses. His thumb traced my bottom lip, brushing away the snow in a slow gentle movement, but I wanted more than that. Quickly I threw my arms around his neck and stood on my tiptoes, straining to reach his face. He smiled a little and bent down to me, kissing me softly, his lips hot against my cool ones. I sighed, moving closer, but he had already pulled away.

Snow fell into my eyes as I frowned up at him. He didn't say anything, but caught my hand in his. "Are you warm enough?" I nodded, not trusting myself to speak yet without sounding whiny. Why was he always pulling away and never talking about it? I was seventeen now, if that was what was bothering him, and for heaven's sake, my own mother was already talking marriage—what difference did one little kiss make anyway? Insecurity flamed white hot inside me. Did he not like kissing me? That sounded silly and impossible—why _wouldn't _he like kissing me? I opened my mouth intending to ask him, but he spoke first.

"You're beautiful," he said softly, and suddenly the questions didn't seem so important anymore. I blushed and ducked my head, but he caught my chin and raised my face to his. "Don't be embarrassed, it's true." His hand moved upwards, gently running along the top of my ear. When he spoke, his voice was low. "I love the way the snow looks against your hair… and on your eyelashes…" he sighed. "You drive me crazy, Claire."

_I could say the same thing about you_, a voice in my head whispered.

He was so warm that the snow melted as soon as it touched him, but his wet hair and skin stood out against the whiteness, he shone in the light. It reminded me of the last time I'd seen him wet and the way the water had trickled off his skin and onto mine. My heart skipped a beat.

His lips found mine again, just as soft as before, but this time I didn't push too far. If this was all Quil would give me, then I'd take it gladly. It was enough.

* * *

**Btw, there's no injunction from Sam in the story. Quil's just being cautious. I know, he's an idiot :-)**


	21. Chapter 21: Distractions

**A/N: Song for this chapter is "You Make Me Smile," by Blue October.**

**Disclaimer: Quil and Claire don't belong to me.**

* * *

"So we should do a girl's night this weekend," Katie said, sitting down beside me at the lunch table.

I shifted guiltily in my seat. "I can't. I'm going to La Push."

"_Again_?" She complained. "Tell your Aunt to hire a baby-sitter or something; she's gets so much free labor out of you it's not even funny."

I cringed. I still hadn't gotten the courage to tell her about Quil yet, and I felt awful for keeping it secret from her, it felt so unnatural. There was no real reason for the secrecy—of everyone I knew, she would understand the best—but I was afraid she would understand _too well. _

I took a deep breath, preparing to bite the bullet. "Well, actually I'm not going there to baby-sit. Um, I'm going to hang out with Quil."

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me carefully, unimpressed. "I thought things were still weird between you two? Spill."

"Well, things _were _weird, but we worked it out and it's kind of funny, but we're…" _What _was I supposed to say; 'we're dating' didn't exactly sound right. "…We're kind of a couple now."

Her face was still carefully blank. "But I thought he already had a girlfriend?"

"Well…" I began uncomfortably; I took a deep breath and it all came out in a rush. "I sort of lied about that. The truth is Quil and I have been together since September, although it's been going on a lot longer than that—and I'm _so _sorry I didn't tell you."

A huge smile broke out across her face, she reached over and hugged me tightly . "Oh my God Claire!" She rolled her eyes. "You're so weird sometimes; I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"I'm sorry—I just didn't know how to say it. The whole thing sounds so unbelievable, even to me."

Katie smiled and leaned forward. "I always knew there was something going on between you two." There was a mischievous smile on her face, and I felt an instant feeling of foreboding. She would want details.

"So is he a good kisser?" I blushed, but nodded slightly. She looked smug. "I thought he would be. And have you…" she trailed of suggestively.

"Katie!" I screeched, glad that none of our other friends had made it to the table yet. It was awkward enough.

"I'll take that as a no." She looked disappointed. "So what's stopping you? It's not like you guys haven't loved each other since forever."

"It's only been a couple of months!"

She made a face. "Come on Claire, we both know that this has been going on _a lot_ longer than that."

"I'm _not _talking about this with you here," I hissed. "Actually, I'm never I'm never talking about Quil with you again!"

Katie only laughed.

xXx

Five minutes after I got home from school, Quil pulled up in his truck. As soon as he came through the door, I threw myself into Quil's arms, nestling into his chest. He chuckled and pulled me closer. I hadn't seen him for three days, the longest time we'd spent apart since the bonfire. I raised my face to his and he kissed me softly, before pulling away far too soon. He laughed at the little frown that creased my forehead.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked. I pointed to the bag at the foot of the stairs.

After a quick goodbye to my mom, Quil and I were safely in the truck, driving along the scenic highway that hugged the coast. I couldn't keep the silly grin off my face, I was _really_ looking forward to an entire weekend with Quil.

He looked just as excited to be with me. He drove one handed along the quiet windy roads that led to La Push. His other hand automatically rested on my knee, tracing small circles. It made me smile even wider.

"You look happy," he said quietly, looking over at me.

"I am. It feels like forever since I've been to La Push."

"You like it there?"

"I like being wherever you are," I said lightly, raising my eyes to his. His cheeks flushed under his dark skin; I knew the idea pleased him.

It still seemed sometimes like Quil was being especially careful with me—afraid that I would run screaming when the truth of the situation dawned on me, that this could be a forever thing. Just as I had been afraid of trapping him, so he was afraid of trapping me. Time was probably the only thing that would completely erase all doubts for both of us. Luckily, we had plenty of it.

We went straight to Aunt Emily's when we got to La Push. She wasn't there, but it seemed like the rest of the pack was. Collin and Embry lounged on the couch eating, Seth was busy in the kitchen ransacking her cupboards and Brady was passed out asleep on a chair in the living room. They all smiled and said hello when we walked in.

I had known most of these guys since I was a baby—not as well as I knew Quil of course, but they had still been fixtures at birthday parties, beach days and at my aunt's house. They were like big, goofy older brothers… That didn't stop me from feeling awkward around them when I walked in holding Quil's hand. I hadn't seen them since the bonfire; so much had changed, and I wondered what they'd thought of it all. Would they treat me any differently? I wished I'd asked Quil about it during the drive down.

Everyone waved hello, but otherwise ignored me. They all looked exhausted, even Quil I realized with a jolt.

"You're on patrol tonight," Embry called over to Quil from his spot on the couch. "You should probably get going soon."

"What? I didn't think you'd be leaving so soon."

"Sorry Claire, but it's just for tonight, but I have the rest of the weekend off. I won't leave you again" He kissed me lightly; I heard snickering behind me, but I ignored it. "I'll be here first thing tomorrow, ok?" I nodded, and followed him to the door, watching him until he was out of sight.

When I returned to the living room, Collin, Embry and the now awake Brady were looking at me curiously, identical grins on each of their faces. I chickened out. "Um, I think I'm going to go bring my bag up to my room now." I grabbed it and hurried upstairs; I wasn't ready for the inevitable make-Claire-blush pick on session.

I was such a wimp; I stayed up there, slowly unpacking my small duffel bag until I heard Emily's sweet voice yelling at the guys for eating all her food. Emily wouldn't let them pick on me.

Did the pack ever leave, I wondered as I wandered downstairs the next morning, sleepily rubbing my eyes. I could hear them laughing and loudly fighting over Emily's muffins. Collin, Brady and Quil were standing around the edges of the room, plates in hand.

"Here Claire, I saved some for you," Emily called to me. Sam was standing beside her, his hand resting on the small of her back.

I sat down at the table. "Do you guys live here or something?" I teased.

Emily rolled her eyes. "It sure feels like it sometimes."

Everyone just ignored us, except for Quil who came over to sit beside me. He didn't reach for my hand, or put an arm around my shoulder like I was expecting, rather his thigh pressed against my own underneath, and it was such a small touch but it made me giddy. It was possessive somehow, and he had never been that way with me before.

"Any plans today?" He smiled down at me, and I felt a matching grin on my face.

"Whatever you want to do," I shrugged, smiling.

"Well, there's a beach you've never been to before, would you like to come see it with me?"

"Ugh!" Collin groaned before I could reply. "Your lovey-dovey ness is making me sick."

"Don't look then," Quil replied, not taking his eyes off me.

"If only I could—too bad you never stop thinking about Claire; I'm getting really sick of seeing her all the time." I frowned. It had been months since I had last seen Collin.

"You're one to talk, what about you and your girlfriend? You think that doesn't make me sick too?"

They bickered for a few minutes, until Emily told them to shut up and eat their breakfast. Afterwards, I went upstairs to change out of my pajamas, and grabbed one of the big beach blankets that Emily kept in the closet too. Even though it was damp out I wasn't worried at all about being cold.

When I went back downstairs, Seth and Embry were looking at Quil funny, unsuccessfully hiding the huge smiles on their faces. Quil was red with embarrassment. I frowned.

"What's going on?"

Embry shrugged. "Nothing… have fun you guys. Quil, remember our advice." They melted out of the house.

"What advice?" I asked curiously. Quil only shook his head.

"Come on, we should get going," he said quickly, changing the subject. Quil drove us out of town and down an almost forgotten looking grass covered dirt track "We'll have to hike for a couple minutes, but it's a beautiful place, completely deserted."

He helped me out of the truck and we began to slowly make our way through the thick undergrowth. "I have a question," I began. Beside me, I saw Quil tense. "About something Collin said, that he was getting sick of _seeing _me so often, but that doesn't make any sense—it's been months since I've been to La Push.

Quil relaxed; he smiled at me sheepishly. "I was wondering if you'd pick up on that. It's…" he struggled for the right words. "It's one of those werewolf things—when we phase we can sort of read each others minds—see each other's thoughts, everything that is in our heads. And, since I'm always thinking about you…" he trailed.

"That's kind of weird, having no secrets."

He nodded. "It's embarrassing too. There's a lot of things I wish I didn't know about the pack, but it's not so bad, we've all gotten used to it."

A blush rose up my cheeks. "Does that mean that… they see _us, _the things we do, when you think about it I mean?" He nodded. "Oh."

Quil laughed. "Don't worry Claire; they're just as embarrassed as you are."

_Still. _

Before I had a chance to die of mortification, the trees began to thin and I could see the flickers of grey ocean in front of us. It was overcast and monochromatic; pearl grey sky, grey water and grey beach, and it was lovely. There were no cliffs, just a gently sloping rock face that led down to a little secluded sandy beach, sheltered by the trees that surrounded it on three sides.

"How did you find this place?" I asked, amazed.

"I came across it one night on patrol. I thought of you when I saw it, I knew you'd love it."  
"I do," I breathed. "It's beautiful."

I found a nice spot, sheltered from the wind by the natural curve of the shore. And spread out the blanket on the rocky sand. Quil sat down beside me. He wrapped his arms around me, protecting me from the chilly wind; I leaned back in to him, contented.

"I have another question," I said after a little silence. "What were Seth and Embry talking about before we left, what advice were they talking about?" He sighed; this was obviously the question that he hadn't wanted me to ask.

"Nothing, they were just being idiots; big surprise," he muttered under his breath. I raised an eyebrow, urging him to go on. He groaned. "Fine, they think I'm being stupid, with you I mean. They think I should stop being noble and just give in and kiss you, _really _kiss you, like I want to." He waited for my response.

"I was kind of wondering why you hadn't," I said lightly, and turned in his arms so I could see him.

"You're very young," his voice was gentle. "I don't want to go too fast."

"I'm seventeen," I protested, turning further so that I was seated in his lap, facing him. "I think it was good advice, you should listen to them."

"Really?"

I nodded and leaned forwards. Quil hesitated for a fraction of a second before meeting my lips with his own. And this time, he didn't pull away when I opened my mouth to his, but kissed me deeper, leaving me breathless. Our other kisses had always been gentle, sweet, this was raw, burning, passionate. I was saturated by him—his scent, the feel of him under my hands, the taste of him. His hands slid up underneath my t-shirt, pressing me even tighter against him and I moaned at the sensation, wanting even more. But Quil was already starting to pull away. He kissed me lightly one last time, and rested his forehead against my own. I sighed.

"What happened to following advice?" I asked.

"It's very dangerous advice," he murmured against my skin. I drank in his breath.

It _was _dangerous, but I couldn't stop myself from seeking it. "Is there a reason why we should stop?"

He frowned. "I can think of a few."

"I can't," I said, kissing his exposed collarbone, moving up across his jaw. Katie's words were stuck in my head; _what's stopping you; it's not like you have been in love since forever. _

Quil was stopping us. He unwound my arms from around his neck, and pulled me off him. I laughed. "I can't help myself, but I'll be good from now on, I promise." I kissed him lightly and sat beside him, keeping a good two-foot buffer between us. But of course, the two feet shrunk rapidly; it was the first time that we'd ever been totally alone, the first chance I'd gotten to run my hands through his hair and along his bare skin…

"_Claire,_" he groaned. "You're not making this very easy." He disentangled his fingers from my hair, and lay back against the blanket, breathing heavily. I fought for breath too; _why _was I making this so difficult?

"Distract me," I whispered.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, just talk to me—I don't care about what." He frowned a little. "Tell me what the rest of the pack thinks about me."

"You know they love you," he said simply. I reached over and shoved at his shoulder; I wanted more information than _that_.

"No, what do they think of _us_?"

He smiled. "It's not like they haven't been expecting it for awhile. They're happy for us."

"What did they think when you imprinted on me?"

He let out a bark of laughter. "Well, they obviously understood better than anyone else how I felt about you, but they were still surprised and confused. Mostly they thought it was ironic I guess."

"Ironic?"

Quil pushed himself up so that he was leaning on his elbows. He looked a little more wary now. "Well, when I was fifteen, I… sort of had a thing for older girls. Seniors and stuff."

_Older girls. _"And you got stuck with a two year old." A sick twisting feeling was building in my stomach. Quil saw my expression.

"Please don't look like that," he murmured softly. But I couldn't help it, it was just so _typical. _Of course Quil liked older women.

"Do you want to know what _I_ thought?" he asked quietly. I nodded slowly. "Truthfully, I was kind of relieved. I was glad I had time to wait until you grew up." He spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words. "I saw what happened with Emily and Sam, and Jared and Kim, and it…scared me, that kind of love. The immediacy of it, the depth. You were just a baby, you didn't have any expectations, I was just Quil to you and I liked that. I liked being your friend. I was just as… devoted but it seemed easier somehow. I—I would have done anything for you, jumped off a cliff if it made you smile. You were the most important thing in the world to me, but when I was sixteen I wasn't ready for anything more."

"What about those senior girls?"

"Most of them had boyfriends," he admitted. "I liked the chase." He was sheepish.

"And after you imprinted? Did you still… chase?"

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Why? Are you jealous?"

"No!" I exclaimed. "I just want to know."

"I didn't… but that didn't stop girls from chasing _me_—do you really want to hear this?"

I nodded my head vigorously, not trusting myself to speak. "The first time was a surprise; I was seventeen, at a party with the guys, and there was this girl there that I'd been friends with a long time. I used to flirt with her a lot before…. Anyway, we were talking and she just leaned over and kissed me when I wasn't expecting it." He frowned at the memory. "And it was like someone kicked me in the gut, I couldn't breathe. I was so surprised that I pulled away."

"Did you _want_ to kiss her?" I asked, feeling brave.

He shook his head. "Not really. She was just a friend. But I was really curious about my reaction; I wondered if it would be like that every time, with every girl."

"Was it?" My voice sounded slightly panicky. How many times had he tried?

"There was only _one _other girl," he smiled at my reaction. "I met her in Seattle, and she was… interested in me I guess. She was pretty and funny and I was curious…. It felt wrong though, like I was cheating " Still lying down, he wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his forehead against my hip. I ran my fingers through his hair.

"It's not exactly cheating Quil," I said, trying to make my voice light. "I was just a kid."

His hands slipped up under my shirt, brushing against the bare skin of my stomach. "No, you don't understand Claire. After I imprinted everything changed. Suddenly, I couldn't see anything but you. And when that first girl kissed me, I felt… _nothing._ No desire, no excitement, none of the things you're supposed to feel when a girl kisses you. The things I used to feel… I wondered if it would always be like that, if I would ever feel anything again. I didn't like to think about it."

"So with the other girl…"

"Yes?" The feel of his breath against my skin, along with his hands was starting to make me dizzy but I struggled to keep my head clear. There was still so much I wanted to know.

"Tell me—"I struggled with the words. My face colored. "What was it like, with her I mean?" I felt my shirt sliding higher up, and Quil's warm lips brushing against my steadily hotter skin.

"Are you trying to distract me?" I gasped.

I felt his lips curl into a smile. "I can't keep my hands off you."

"You're not answering my question!"

He sighed. "When I kissed her, it was just like before. Nothing. Don't worry Claire, nothing else happened." I exhaled slowly. "I was really afraid by then. I didn't know if I would ever feel it again. That kind of need." I felt him smile against my bare skin again. "And then you grew up and it hit me like a wrecking ball. You have no idea what this feels like, not having to keep secrets, or feel guilty, or hide what I really am. And I can do this." His nose nuzzled against my stomach, breathing deeply, and making me go hazy again.

But I fought against it. "I'm sure you've done this before Quil," I snorted.

He pulled away slightly and looked up at me, his face deadly serious. "Actually I haven't."

I felt like my eyes were going to fall of my head. "Seriously?"

He nodded, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "Seriously." His hands slid underneath my shirt again, and up until they rested on my shoulder blades. He pulled me closer. "I've never done anything like this before, not even before I imprinted."

I could feel my bones turning into jelly as I melted from his words. I wondered if it was actually possible to turn into a puddle. Quil, _my_ Quil, was just as inexperienced as me. The vision of him with some gorgeous, older, more experienced rival was disappearing rapidly.

I smiled widely. "I don't know why, but that makes me really happy, I was always expecting the opposite."

"I love you Claire._ I wasn't in-love _with you then, but I never forgot who I belonged to."

I kissed him, quickly overwhelmed and dizzy again. His hands ran along my spine, and my hands mirrored his movements. But all too quickly, he pulled away again.

"I don't think I did a very good job distracting you," he smiled.

"Oh, I don't mind." But I moved back, still keeping tightly a hold of his hand. I wouldn't push him. "Wait, I have an idea." He looked down at me skeptically. "Would you show me your wolf form again?" I asked shyly. "It's been so long… and it's a good distraction."

"Maybe for you," he said quietly, but he grinned and kissed me lightly, before disappearing into the woods without a word.

I wondered, after he returned a few moments later, if I would ever get used to Quil in this form, if he would ever stop looking quite so big and strange to me, and yet so familiar at the same time. He gave me a huge disgusting kiss and settled down beside me. I leaned against him, burying my face in his fur, inhaling his scent.

"This is very nice." And I was right, it _was _easier.

I stretched out beside him, and stroked the fur of his neck lightly. "You're so soft Quil, and you smell… I don't even know how to describe it, but you smell _good_, sort of woodsy and ." I moved closer to him. "And you're so warm." Quil was looking at me, his eyes—the only mode of expression he had—were locked on my face. "I just wish you could talk, that's the only thing that would make this better."

We lay there I don't know how long, until the sky was beginning to darken behind the clouds and the wind started to blow colder, though I didn't feel it because I was so tightly wrapped up in Quil. I loved this, I realized as I lay there. I loved him.

"I'm glad you've never been with anyone before Quil," I murmured into his side. "I want to be the only one you ever touch." A noise erupted from his chest, a strange sort of humming, almost like the purr of cat. With a flick of his tongue, he lightly licked the end of my nose and made that strange laughing sound again, before lowering his head onto the sand next to me. I wrapped myself up in him, tangling my fingers into his fur.

Suddenly, his head snapped up and his ears pricked forward, it was as if he was listening to some call too low for me to hear, some inhuman sound. Never had he reminded me more of a wolf, his mannerisms had always been human, but now they were completely alien, exactly like the animal whose form he took. Quil moved quickly—one moment he lay beside me, the next he was on his feet, his body stiff with tension. I sat up too, confused at the sudden change.

"Quil, what happened?" I could hear the nervousness in my voice.

With his teeth, he grabbed at my clothes, tugging and pulling until I stood. He danced around me, pushing me backwards with his nose with such force that I almost fell. He was trying to tell me something, but I had no clue what it was. He was frenzied.

I raised my hands, trying to push him away. "Quil! Stop it, you're scaring me!" He froze. Our eyes met, and I could see the fear in them. "_What are you trying to tell me_?" My voice was too high.

I could see the indecision play in his eyes, some internal struggle. Without taking his eyes off me, he backed five feet away, his eyes beseeching me, but to do what I didn't know. I watched in dawning comprehension and horror as his form began to blur at the edges, shrinking and shimmering, until human Quil was standing in front of me. My jaw dropped.

He was naked.

Hastily, I dropped my eyes to ground, as hot blood rose across my neck and face. But Quil didn't give me any time for embarrassment; he was so focused that he hardly seemed to realize he was naked as he strode towards me.

"Come on Claire, we have to get back to La Push," he said hurriedly wrapping up the blanket that we had been lying on.

I forced my mind back to the present, but kept my gaze strictly above his neck. "What's happened, what's wrong?"

He just shook his head. "Sam is calling." He handed me the rolled up blanket. "The quickest way back is if I carry you on my back. Just hold on as tight as you can to my fur and I won't drop you." I nodded stupidly. "_Don't move_," he ordered and backed another fifteen feet away. His shape shimmered again and the wolf stood before me. For the first time, I took a deep breath; wolf Quil certainly _was _easier to be around.

He darted back towards the trees so fast that he was just a streak of brown against the grey. Before I had time to wonder where he'd gone or why, he emerged, his mouth full of the clothes that he had discarded earlier. I took them and added them to the bundle I already held in my arms. Quil knelt in front of me, and ungracefully I climbed onto his back and dug my hands deep into his fur.

He was off as soon as he thought I was securely settled on his back, running lithely and gracefully through the woods, weaving skillfully among the trees. I buried my face in his fur as my hair streamed out behind me and my stomach rolled with the too-fast motion. Every time I peeked out and saw the blurred world pass me by, a new wave of nausea over took me. And then, in a quarter of the time it had taken that morning, we were in the woods at the back of Sam and Emily's house.

I slid off his back, and stood there for a moment, too dazed to think straight. Quil phased in front of me again, but this time I was too stunned to blush decently and I unreservedly let my eyes travel across his body. Oh God…

Behind his dark skin I saw him flush deeply; he grabbed the clothes out of my hands and dressed quickly.

"Come on; let's see what Sam is so freaked out about."

The closer we got to the back door, the more wrinkled Quil's nose got; worry radiated from his every movement. "Vampire?" I whispered. He nodded, and shoved me behind him, blocking me from view as he carefully opened the door. Quil gave a quick, sharp intake of breath, but the tension left him as he saw what was inside.

"Quil, we have a problem," I recognized Sam's voice — he sounded more anxious than I had ever heard him before, and an instant intense feeling of foreboding overtook me. As much as it terrified me to finally learn what was waiting inside the house, it was _not_ knowing that was a thousand times worse. Slowly I stood on my tiptoes and peered over Quil's shoulder. What I saw there made me gasp in surprise.

Sitting at the table in the little kitchen, looking perfectly at ease despite the fact that a roomful of werewolves surrounded them, were two of the most inhumanely, devastatingly beautiful creatures I had ever seen.

* * *

**Author's Note: **_**Another **_**cliffhanger… sorry, it just felt right to leave off there. **

**So this is going to be my last update before **_**Breaking Dawn, **_**and then I think I'm going to take a break for a week or so afterwards, so everyone gets a chance to read the book. I want to keep this story as in canon as possible, so I will be incorporating what happens in BD as much as I can. **

**Of course, if I don't get my happy-ending (please Stephenie, **_**please!) **_**I might be too depressed to do anything for a while… so fingers crossed that Bella becomes a vampire and ends up with Edward, Jacob gets his own happy ending and NO one dies! **

**Anyway, only 3 more days until the release! I'm going to a Borders midnight release party, and I am wicked excited! I want to know how this story ends already!**


	22. Author's Note: Help!

**Author's Note: ...Spoilers... Don't read unless you've finished BD!**

**Hey guys, it's the dreaded author's note. I know, as a huge fan-fic reader nothing bugs me more than to get an A/N instead of a chapter. But I REALLY need your advice.**

**So _Breaking Dawn… _yeah, not my favorite at all. I mean there were parts I really liked (how cute were Quil and Claire on the beach?? "I don't see their faces anymore" Awwww!) But the whole Nessie thing really threw me; I mean I don't care about some demon baby—I care about Bella and Edward! But I'm not going to rant about that here.**

**However, BD left me with a big decision to make: Do I keep this story as in-canon as possible? Or do I go ahead with my original storyline with a few minor BD influenced changes? **

**I absolutely cannot make up my mind, so I'm leaving it to**** you guys. Do I keep it in canon, which means removing Jake from the story completely**** (since I don't want to deal with the whole messy Renesme business) Or do I write as though BD never happened and have**** Bella and the rest of the Cullen's return, and write what I wished had happened between Bella/ Edward/ Jacob? **

**I'm seriously fine with whatever, so leave a review or PM and let me know your decision, or if you need more info.**

**Thank you!**

**Rosybud**


	23. Chapter 22: Unexpected Guests

**Author's Note: Thank you guys SO much for all your advice! I got **_**tons**_** of great feedback. Over 60 reviews... jeesh, can we do that _every_ time? **

**So after much thought, I realized my biggest problem was that I had already started writing bits and pieces of the next couple chapters that I was really attached to, but I figured out that with a little tweaking I could include everything I wanted to without straying too far from BD. Even though many of you wanted me to ignore the book, I can't really do it because I want the Cullen's to play a role in my story. It would just be too confusing :-(**

**So I'm basically going ahead with the story I had already planned, except without Jake. In the interest of continuity, I'm going to go back and take him out of the chapters I'****ve already posted—he's with Nessie in South America or whatever. I won't be going into detail with that. For those of you who want Jake around, I'm sorry.**

**I've also given Leah the ending she wanted, she's off living her own life in Seattle. I've rewritten parts of chapter 9 to reflect this.**

**And I'm not getting into the whole pack drama. In my world, everyone returned to Sam's pack after Jacob left except Leah. **

**So after that monster A/N, here you go guys, enjoy!**

* * *

_Sitting at the table in the little kitchen, looking perfectly at ease despite the fact that a roomful of werewolves surrounded them, were two of the most inhumanely, devastatingly beautiful creatures I had ever seen_.

I recognized the man immediately; indeed, I was sure I would remember his face perfectly for the rest of my life. Dr. Carlisle Cullen looked exactly the same as the last time I had seen him almost two years ago—movie star gorgeous and utterly unfazed at the scene around him. Did _anything_ ruffle that calm exterior I wondered?

But I had never seen the vampire who sat beside him, though she too looked equally at ease. She was young looking, maybe a year or two older than me, though that meant little. She was a vampire—she could be over a hundred and I'd never be able to tell. She had pale luminous skin, so clear it seemed translucent, with faint purplish bruises beneath her eyes, and long dark brown hair that fell to below her shoulders. She was looking towards us curiously, and like Carlisle, her big eyes were a tawny caramel color.

She was beautiful.

Quil grasped my hand tightly and led me inside. I was relieved, though slightly perplexed that he hadn't sent me away the minute he smelled vampires in the area; that he wasn't sending me away now. Not that I'd go. I followed him quietly into the cramped kitchen to where he stood next to Embry. Despite his seeming ease, Quil had maneuvered me so that I was standing slightly behind them.

Seth, Collin, Brady, Paul, and of course Sam were only a few of the faces I recognized in the crowd. They were all so relaxed—Seth was even smiling—but that didn't stop them from looking menacing in the fading light. "The rest are coming," Sam said quietly.

"Everyone?" Quil asked. Sam nodded and a significant look passed between them. Whatever this was, it was big I realized. Especially if Sam was bringing the others out of their retirement.

Carlisle smiled at me, but before he could speak, Quil interrupted.

"What's happened?"

Carlisle's odd eyes flickered to Quil. "Sam wanted me to wait until everyone arrives to explain, but I suppose it doesn't really matter." He cleared his throat. "Since we left, Alice—" I frowned at the unfamiliar name. _Alice_, was that the woman who sat so quietly beside Carlisle? "—has been checking in periodically on the area to make sure that our loved ones are in no danger." _Loved ones?? _"… Well, two days ago she saw something."

All of the werewolves were leaning towards Carlisle now, listening intently.

"Our friend Garrett in Denali has been hearing the rumors as well among his old nomad friends: There is a group of our kind who has grown curious about the pack here. While most vampires wouldn't dare attack you— especially in light of our alliance, this band harbors no such qualms. They've been keeping watch over you for some time I'm afraid. They've decided it's time you're eliminated."

Sam's breath left him in a deep, low growl. At my side, I felt Quil and Embry tense.

Carlisle held up a hand. "Luckily, it's only a relatively small number that has temporarily banded together. It seems they are tired of having to skirt around the Peninsula for fear of encroaching on your territory. The aren't used to having part of the north closed to them; some decided to test your strength two years ago when they launched the attack that left Quil injured. Despite that outcome, they've decided to try again, this time with a larger force. Though I suppose they wouldn't bother except to avenge those deaths."

"But, that last attack was so long ago!" I cried, stepping out of my protectors' circle. "Why come now…" I trailed.

Carlisle smiled at me a little sadly. "For a vampire, two years is nothing, especially not to a vampire who has lost its mate. That is something our kind does not forget, and certainly does _not _forgive. The vampire that leads this new alliance lost his in the attack two years ago." He turned away from me and back to Sam. " Alice is not exactly sure when they will arrive; it could be days, or hours. But they are coming."

"And you're sure? What if Alice has made a mistake?"

"Never bet against Alice," the girl beside Carlisle spoke up in a quiet, sweet voice, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, like she was telling a private joke. I stared at her, fascinated, and saw that everyone else in the room was watching her now too. She looked like she would blush if she were able to. Nervously, she dropped her head. The conversation resumed, but this time, I didn't look away from her.

Were all vampires so lovely? I had only ever met two and Quil had certainly never brought the subject up before, but it seemed as if they must be. It wasn't as if she was doing anything inhuman, but still her movements seemed so unnaturally perfect, just like her face. I watched in rapt attention.

As she reached up to gracefully brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the sleeve of her long sleeved shirt fell back, revealing a simple silver bracelet. The first thing I noticed was the huge diamond heart that hung against her pale skin, casting faint rainbows in the artificial light of the overhead pendant.

But it was the second charm that made my jaw drop.

Instinctively, I reached for the necklace around my own neck—the little carved wolf that Quil had given me for my seventeenth birthday. She wore one too, a little different I realized when I looked closer, but unmistakably carved by the same person.  
What was a _vampire_ doing wearing a trinket made by one of the Quileute wolves?

I looked quickly at Quil to see if he had noticed but his attention was centered on the golden haired vampire. I realized with a start that I had been so focused on the woman that I was missing the conversation taking place around me. I wrenched my attention back to the present.

"Most of my family is here," Carlisle was saying in his smooth, velvet voice. "We're on our way to visit our friends in Denali, so we won't be lingering here. But I know they would like to see you," Carlisle said, looking at Seth in particular.

Sam nodded. "We'll need to gather anyway to discuss this. Can you come tonight, to the clearing?"

Carlisle nodded. "You should be able to handle them quite effectively; Alice has only seen 11 or so—an easy number for a pack of your size."

"It'll be easy," Paul growled, his eyes flashing, before Sam silenced him with a glance.

I felt Quil's arm wrap around my waist. He leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Come on Claire, let's find Emily. You can stay with her tonight."

I froze, refusing to move. "I'm coming with you," I said loudly, regretting it instantly, when all eyes in the room turned towards me. But I wouldn't back down.

"Absolutely not," Quil growled. "You shouldn't even be here _now. _If you think I'm taking you into that clearing full of bloodsuckers—" he spat out.

I was surprised at his vehement tone. These vampires obviously had a special relationship with my wolves, why was Quil being _so _hostile? I supposed he was only being overprotective.

"I'm going with you!" I said, louder this time, ignoring our audience. Quil's flat out refusal made me more determined than ever. "I'm not letting you go by yourself."

"I'll hardly be alone—" he began, but was interrupted by a sweet, clear voice.

"Let her come."

All eyes in the room once again turned towards the female vampire. It was only the second time that she had spoken all night, and I leaned forward impulsively, eager to hear her soft voice again." It won't be dangerous Quil." She turned towards me. "You're Claire aren't you?" I nodded and she smiled. "I remember hearing about you. I remember how helpless it felt to stay behind when those I loved were threatened. Let her come," she said again.

"If she really wants to, I don't see any harm in it," Carlisle said confidently. "Of course, she will be in no danger from us."

"I can carry her to the clearing for you," the girl spoke softly. Beside me, I felt Quil tense. His hand caught mine protectively.

"Please," I whispered, looking up at him. "_Please."_

Quil looked at Sam, who gave a slight nod. "If you must Claire."

Beside me, Quil sighed in defeat. "Fine. But _I _will carry her."

The female laughed—a low musical sound. "You've changed Quil," she said lightly.

He met her eyes evenly. "I could say the same thing about you." There was a new, sharper edge in his voice.

She didn't reply, but turned towards my curious gaze. "I'm Bella by the way," she smiled. And strangely enough, I felt myself smiling back.

xXx

Everything happened quickly after that. Quil dug out a thick jacket for me from somewhere in the house and without saying a word, put it on me and picked me up, cradling me in his arms as he strode swiftly through La Push towards the woods.

"Believe it or not, I can walk by myself," I mumbled, shifting in his arms. They tightened around me.

"Not as fast as I can." I could tell by his grim expression and low voice that he was mad at me.

I sighed and settled comfortably against him. "Don't be upset with me Quil."

He shook his head. "I just wish that for once, you would do what I ask. Is it really so hard?"

"Yes," I nodded. "I won't be in danger Quil. Your_ family _will be there_,_ they won't let anyone hurt me. Besides, you trust those vampires, I know you do."

"You're walking into a field full of giant wolves and bloodsuckers_,_" he shot back."Doesn't that scare you at all?"

"It scares me more when I'm not with you," I said simply. I struggled, trying to find the right way to express my fear, the jolt that came when I thought of Quil hurt and alone, the memory of seeing him helpless in his bed that awful day two years ago. There were no words for that, so I leaned my head against his shoulder instead. Quil relaxed under me.

"I know the feeling."

We stayed silent for a few minutes, but when we left the houses of La Push behind and entered the forest, I couldn't keep my questions back any longer.

"Quil," I began timidly. "Who is Bella? I saw the charm on her bracelet. It's exactly like mine." I fingered my necklace. "Did Jacob make it for her?"

"You saw the charm?" he asked, surprised. I nodded. When he spoke again, his voice was cautious. "Her name was Bella Swan—"

"Was?"

"When she was human," he went on. "She's Charlie Swan's daughter. You know—Sue Clearwater's husband."

My mind reeled. Police Chief Swan's _daughter_?

"I didn't know he had a daughter."

Quil nodded. "From his first marriage. She moved to Forks to live with him when you were just a baby. No one talks about her much. Most of Forks is under the impression she died."

"But she's not dead!"

Quil gave me a funny look. "Yes she is. She died the minute she became one of _them._"

My mind scrambled confusedly to catch up. "Wait," I persisted. "How did she… become one of them?"

"She fell in love with Edward Cullen."

_Cullen. _"She fell in love with a vampire?" I gasped. "Is that even possible?" I tried to picture it but failed.

"Yeah, it blew our minds too," he smiled ruefully. "She was just an ordinary human girl… It's a whole long, complicated story; maybe I'll tell you about it someday. Jake gave that charm to her, hoping she would stay human. Obviously she didn't."

"But why? Why would anyone choose to_ die, _to give up everything, her whole life?" I trailed.

"Love," Quil said simply.

I was twisting my necklace, trying to picture it—giving up my family and friends, choosing immortality. Only if… only if it meant spending it with Quil, I realized suddenly. He was the only thing that would make it worth it. I felt a sudden rush of empathy.

"It's funny she still wears the bracelet isn't it? I wonder why?"

"It's still a part of her past I guess." He brushed a stray lock of hair off my face. "We're almost there," Quil said quietly, nearing a low clearing in the woods.

The moon shone faintly through the clouds, illuminating the field in front of us. I saw the pack, standing off to one side. Some of them had chosen their wolf forms; I wondered if it was because Sam had ordered it, or if they just didn't trust the vampires to appear before them so vulnerable.

"Find a spot somewhere out of the way. I don't know how long we'll be here." He shook his head and I knew that he was still unhappy with my choice to come, but I didn't care. I needed to keep my eye on him.

How had Aunt Emily been able to stand it? Being away from Sam so much—never knowing if he was dead or alive, or even safe? I took a breath and walked out into the field, where a huge rock jutted out of the earth, surrounded by low bushes. That was as good a place as any…

And then I saw them.

Eight stone-still figures standing at the edge of the forest. The hair on the back of my arms stood on end, and I looked quickly towards Quil who had joined the pack, he was looking at them too. When he didn't shout a warning, I continued towards the rock, which lay nearer to them than I really wanted to be. In the moonlight, they were absolutely otherworldly. I knew with certainty that even if I lived a hundred more years I would never see another sight equal to their beauty.

And all I wanted to do was run as far from them as possible.

**So there you go. If you're confused about anything let me know, and I'll try to clear it up for you. **

**Did you catch my reference to Garrett? I love him!**


	24. Chapter 23: Bella

**Author's Note: I just want to say hi to all my new readers and reviewers. Thanks for all the nice stuff you had to say! And a big huge thanks to those who've stuck around- your support is the reason why I'm still writing this!**

**A lot of you guys agreed with me that Garrett is one sexy revolutionary vampire. And everyone seemed to like how I incorporated **_**Breaking Dawn**_** into the story. Phew! **

**The song for this chapter is "Stay with You," by the Goo Goo Dolls. Btw, the song on Stephenie's playlist, "Someone to die for"—wow, what a great imprinting song! I know it could describe Nessie and Bella too, but the lines: "I'm drunk when sober/ the room is spinning/ **_**you**_** are what I hold on to," is exactly how I imagined imprinting to feel like. **

**Disclaimer: everyone belongs to Stephenie Meyer, who is still the coolest person ever!**

* * *

_And then I saw them._

_Eight stone-still figures standing at the edge of the forest. The hair on the back of my arms stood on end, and I looked quickly towards Quil who had joined the pack, he was looking at them too. When he didn't shout a warning, I continued towards the rock, which lay nearer to them than I really wanted to be. In the moonlight, they were absolutely otherworldly. I knew with certainty that even if I lived a hundred more years I would never see another sight to equal their beauty. _

_And all I wanted to do was run as far from them as possible. _

xXx

My legs refused to move me one step closer. The hair on the back of my arms was standing straight on end, and blood pounded heavily behind my ears. But I couldn't help feeling mad at my automatic response. These were the Cullens for heaven's sake, the_ good_ vampires. I knew Quil wouldn't let me anywhere near them if they were going to hurt me, but I knew instinctively that they _could. _Very, very easily. The knowledge did little to calm me.

Think of Carlisle, I demanded. He didn't seem so bad, even if he was a bloodsucker, certainly not dangerous. And Bella, she seemed nice too… and she used to be a human.

They _all_ used to be human I realized with a shock. They had lived and loved, and then been bitten, hunted humans, killed them… I repressed a shudder and stared at the ground. It seemed impossible to connect what I knew a human to be—frail, breakable, _warm_—with these stone figures. Standing as they were, like perfect marble statues, they were an artist's dream, perfection made real.

Very slowly, I forced myself to walk towards them, trying to stay in the shadow of the woods as much as possible. I didn't raise my eyes again until I reached my rock. It wasn't really that big, but I felt somehow safer there, more out of the way and less likely to draw their attention. At last, I raised my eyes towards the edge of the woods again.

They hadn't moved an inch. I found I could see them better now that I was closer, and had to fight to keep back a gasp of surprise. If Carlisle and Bella were beautiful, it was nothing, _nothing _compared to the shock of seeing them all standing together—eight impossibly perfect vampires. Each one lovely on their own, but beyond comprehension together.

What was it about mythical creatures that made them all so much better looking than ordinary people? It was the same with the pack. How often had my friends from school stared at Quil? But I was used to his beauty. These vampires… oh, it hurt to look at them… and it scared me too.

My gaze went immediately to the striking figure with dark hair that shone bronze in the moonlight; Bella stood beside him and I realized that he must be Edward Cullen, the vampire who had taken Bella's humanity. They stood turned slightly towards each other—not touching, and yet still so obviously _together, _so aware of each other. I felt like I was catching a brief glimpse of the love that Isabella Swan had died for.

I tore my gaze away from the beautiful vampires and back towards the werewolves, as one figure detached from the group and made his way forward with a wave. The moonlight reflected brightly off his white teeth.

It was Seth Clearwater. He grinned at me as he made his way past. I sat frozen, not knowing what to expect. My eyes widened in shock when he reached them and grabbed the one nearest him—the tiny pixie like woman—lifting her into a hug until her feet dangled far off the ground. He hugged them all. Even the blonde who looked like she wanted to tear his head off.

I looked back at the pack to see how they were taking this, but they had all started walking forward too. Not everyone was exuberant as Seth, but some were laughing and everyone was smiling as they greeted the Cullens. I was too far away to hear, but it sounded like they were catching each other up on the news, speaking like old friends who haven't seen each other in years. I gaped, trying to wrap my head around it.

"Hello Claire," a voice said quietly from right beside me. I jumped, my heart leaping to my throat. I hadn't seen her leave the group, but somehow Bella was now sitting beside me on the rock, looking at me curiously.

I raised a hand to my heart, trying to slow its rhythm. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." She was acting especially careful, trying not to frighten me I realized, and I was thankful for that. I looked towards Quil and saw him staring at me; I gave a shaky, but hopefully reassuring smile.

"I saw you sitting over here by yourself and thought I'd say hello. I wondered if you'd like to come meet my family?"

She laughed at the petrified expression on my face. "Or maybe not."

"I'd feel better staying over here, thank you," I explained weakly.

"You don't have anything to be scared of you know. My family and I would never hurt you." I looked at them over her shoulder.Maybe it was the moonlight: Carlisle and Bella had looked almost normal under the ordinary lights in Aunt Emily's kitchen. But now, even relaxed and smiling, they could never be called normal.

Bella laughed again. "They _are_ kind of intimidating, aren't they? I forget how other people see us sometimes, but really, they're not so bad. You've already met Carlisle of course, and next to him is his wife Esme." She pointed to the caramel haired woman who stood at his side. There was something sweet and almost motherly about her. "And then there's Emmett—he's almost like a teddy bear." I saw the one she pointed to raise a questioning eyebrow at Bella, and she giggled. "Though he'd probably say that he's just a _bear_. Beside him is his wife Rosalie…she's very beautiful of course." Bella sounded a little wistful.

Beautiful was a massive understatement. Even surrounded by the rest of the Cullens, her beauty shone brilliantly. Self-consciously I tugged at my hair. I wished that I had at least brushed it before coming here. "She has that effect on all of us," Bella sympathized. "And then there's Alice and Jasper." She pointed to the tall blond man and the tiny pixie like woman who stood beside him.

"Alice? The one Carlisle was talking about earlier?"

"Yes, she's the one who saw the vampires coming here."

"Saw?"

"She sees the future, or possibilities of things that may happen at least." Bella smiled at my shocked expression. "It's not unusual for vampires to have extra talents. Jasper is able influence mood; he can read the feelings of those around him, change them if he wants to. And Edward…"

Her gaze drifted to the bronze haired vampire who stood closest to us. A little smile touched her face. "Edward can read people's thoughts."

"Seriously? So he knows what I'm thinking right now?" She nodded. "Does the pack know about that?"

"Yes, outside of other vampires, the pack knows more about my family and our way of life than anyone else."

I tried to process that. "I didn't think it was possible for vampires and werewolves to be friends. I guess I shouldn't be surprised." She smiled brightly at me, and there was real warmth in her eyes. For the first time I felt unafraid to be so close.

For a brief second, I wondered what she had looked like when she was human. If she had not met Edward, or had chosen differently I would have grown up knowing this woman intimately. As Sue Clearwater's step-daughter, she would have been family. Maybe she would have been like Emily and Kim, like an aunt to me. But instead, she was permanently frozen at eighteen years old.

"Do you regret it?" I asked suddenly, curiosity making me bold. She was confused. "Giving it all up I mean, becoming one of _them_. Quil only told me a little of what happened.…" I gave up miserably, fearing I had overstepped and she would be mad at me.

But she didn't even hesitate in her answer. "No."

"You don't miss anything?" I pushed.

She was looking towards the Cullens. Edward turned towards us, a crooked smile on his face. A smile lit her face in response. "I have everything I want. I don't regret anything."

"Not even the whole… blood thing?"

She burst into laughter. "That wasn't as hard as I was afraid it was going to be. I just had to _choose _to be good. And I think that because I knew what I was getting into, it was easier for me than the others."

"That's lucky," I said weakly. Bella laughed again. I cleared my throat, needing a change of subject. "What are they talking about?" I gestured towards Quil. The conversation seemed to have taken a serious turn. Sam was frowning slightly.

"Carlisle is just giving them a little more information about the vampires coming here."

"Don't you want to hear what they're saying?"

"I can hear them, and besides, Edward will fill me in when we go. If it's ok with you, I'd much rather stay here."

I nodded. "Is this very bad?" I asked quietly.

She shook her head. "Do think we'd be leaving them alone if it was? Well, I'm sure my family would like to do more, but as I'm sure you've noticed your uncle can be very _independent_ sometimes." She chuckled lightly. "Alice can't see any outcomes because of the wolves, but I'd say their chances are excellent. The vampires have no idea what they're walking in on here, or for the wolves to know they're coming.

"Still…" Even if _one _person got hurt or worse, it would be one too many. And what if it was Quil? Could I live through that?

My eyes locked on him and it was like he moved in slow motion. The curve of his neck as he bent to throw an arm over Seth's shoulder… his smile as Edward spoke to him… the burn in his eyes when raised them to me… and the look in them that was _mine. _

What if it was Quil?

Bella's voice broke through my daze. Her voice was sympathetic. "I remember what that feels like. Being afraid all the time that something bad will happen." She sighed. "And it doesn't help when they act so confident! Like nothing bad will ever happen to them."

"Exactly!" I exclaimed. "Quil's more afraid for me than he is for himself! I hate that." I could already hear the reassurances that I would get later from Quil and my uncle, from them all really. And I knew that despite his confidence, Quil would be even more protective of me than usual.

"It would be easier if the world was normal, wouldn't it?"

"I don't think you should tell _them_ that," I remembered the stories that I had heard, the pride that they had, and the joy that Quil felt being in his wolf form. "There are things about this life that they love."

"I know." Bella nodded, her face was scrunched up like she was thinking hard. "I don't remember… everything from my old life— parts of it are like a dream sometimes and I've forgotten so much, but I've tried so hard to keep the important things close." Her eyes were far away, reliving some memory. "But I remember the way they used to talk about it. It used to bug me."

"Silly boys," I muttered.

"And what about you," she gestured to the fantastical scene in front of us. "You don't ever wish for normal?"

"Normal can be overrated." She laughed as I sighed. "I just wish I knew for sure it would all be okay."

"Don't be afraid Claire. Quil will be fine." She reached towards me and lightly laid a hand on my own. I jumped slightly at the sensation caused by her freezing skin. She pulled away quickly.

"Sorry," she explained sheepishly. "I forget about that."

Before I could even open my mouth to tell her it was fine, Quil was standing next to me. He reached for the hand she had touched, and I almost gasped again but for an entirely different reason. If her skin was ice, than his was fire. The sharp contrast only made their differences more pronounced, and the friendship that had developed between these two groups seemingly even more improbable.

I leaned against Quil's side while he rubbed my back comfortingly. Bella was watching us with a knowing smile on her face.

"Are you tired?" Quil asked me.

I shook my head, not letting my fatigue surface. "No, this is amazing. I'm so glad you brought me here."

A tall figure was walking towards us, his bronze hair glinting in the light. As soon as he reached us, Bella held out her hand to him. Edward took it in his own, and reached out with long fingers to brush them against her cheek. Both of them seemed to have forgotten our presence.

Or maybe not. Bella pulled away and smiled at me. "Claire, this is Edward." He smiled at me, and I wondered how Bella had been able to stand his beauty when she was only human. It would have made me feel beyond insignificant.

"Hello," I said shyly.

"So you're the one that Quil couldn't stop thinking about. The others were getting a little annoyed at him," he grinned at Quil, who only rolled his eyes.

"Quil's kind of overprotective," I explained.

"I can relate." Edward smiled and shared a look with Bella that made me feel like I was intruding on something far too intimate, something I was not meant to see. I averted my eyes and carefully crawled off the rock, using Quil's hand to steady me.

The whole group was making their way towards us. The Cullen's smiled at me encouragingly, but kept their distance. My answering smile still felt too timid but I was surprised to find that I was no longer afraid of them.

Sam and Carlisle were still in the midst of a conversation when they reached us. "We'll be on our way then," Carlisle said smoothly. "Remember, if you need any help, let us know. You have the number, and Alice will be keeping an eye out."

"I'll be trying anyway," the pixie like woman said disdainfully. The werewolves chuckled.

"We will. And give our love to Jake and Ness for us. It's been too long since we've seen them."

"Of course." The two men shook hands.

"Goodbye Claire," Bella said softly. "I'm glad I met you."

"Me too," I answered, honestly meaning it. And with that the Cullen's turned and melted gracefully into the woods. No one spoke for a long minute as we stared at the place where they disappeared. Then, slowly, the conversation resumed and the night turned into a might just like any other pack gathering. A cool gust of wind blew through the meadow. I shivered.

"Are you sure you don't want to go back now?" Quil murmured into my ear, wrapping a warm arm around my shoulders.

I shook my head. "No, I want to stay with you," I said yawning.

"You're exhausted Claire. Let me take you home."

My eyes were already closed when he pulled me into his arms. "What about Sam," I mumbled. "And I wanted to see you phase again…"

He ran his fingers through my hair, kissing me lightly on the forehead. "Sam can wait a little while."

I didn't have the energy to argue any further. I turned my face, burying it in his shoulder, and in the all-enveloping warmth of Quil's arms, I fell deeply and completely asleep. I knew I would be angry with myself in the morning—there were so many more things I wanted to ask him—but it had been a long day and an even longer night, and it was finally catching up to me.

I didn't open my eyes again until Quil carefully lowered me into my bed at Sam and Emily's house. Half- awake I felt him pull off my shoes and jacket, and then cover me with a blanket. His fingers trailed down my arm and the sensation set my heart racing, pulling me from sleep. I looked up at him, catching his hand just as he turned to leave, pulling him back towards me. He came willingly.

"You didn't say goodnight.

"Goodnight Claire." But I didn't let go of his arm. Knowing what I wanted, he smiled down at me and bent to lightly press his lips to mine. "Better?" he asked.

"Much," I sighed, falling back against the pillows. My eyes closed as I surrendered totally to sleep.

* * *

**So, this chapter I was just having a little fun with the Cullens. The next chapter is when all the exciting stuff happens. It's been in my head for so long that I'm really excited about finally getting to write it out! I think I'm going to lock myself in my room tomorrow and see how far I can get. **


	25. Chapter 24: Frozen

**A/N: Song for this chapter is "Frozen," by Within Temptation. And "Cold Water", by Damien Rice.**

**I've had scenes from this chapter in my head since last May. I remember it being 3 in the morning, desperately wanting to turn on the light and start writing, but not being able to because I didn't want to wake my college roomate. Absolute torture. **

**Over the last couple days I've been re-writing and editiong crazily. It's a very special chapter, so I really wanted to get it right. I hope you like it as much as I do. **

* * *

My aunt's soft voice drifted up the stairs through my open bedroom door, gently pulling me from what had been a very restless night's sleep. Usually this was a homey, comforting sound, part of a very long tradition and as familiar to me as my own mother's voice. This morning however, Emily was all but drowned out by the relentless pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof above me. Groggily, I cracked my open my eyes to peer at the clock on the table beside me, blinking against the bright greenish light that filtered through my window. It was only half past eight.

I groaned, twisting in the bed to bury my head underneath a pillow. I just wanted to sleep! Just wanted to lose myself in unconsciousness for a few more hours and forget the craziness that had taken hold. But the change in my position brought no relief—if anything I felt worse. The blankets bunched around my body, trapping me, and the jeans I'd fallen asleep in pinched my skin uncomfortably. I groaned again and kicked quilt off me, knowing I wouldn't be able to fall asleep again.

Had it really been only yesterday that I'd woken up so innocently excited about spending the day with Quil? It seemed like ages ago.

After a quick shower, I changed into my favorite pair of flannel pajama pants and still groggy, made my way downstairs, almost tripping over one of my cousins who sat hugging a teddy bear on the stair. I ruffled his hair and continued downward. Emily was standing over the stove, cooking eggs. Sam was on the phone, his low voice oddly entreating. I wondered who he was talking to.

Sitting down at the table, I pulled my knees up against my chest, as a plate of food was set down in front of me. I stared at it blankly, not at all hungry. Emily put a hand on my shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly.

"Where's Quil?" I asked, looking up from the food.

"He's out patrolling," my uncle said with a sigh, placing the phone back in its charger and rubbing his eyes wearily. "I'm just about to join him."

"You need to rest—" Emily complained.

"Not until I know more," he interrupted. They shared a long look before he stood and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning down to brush his lips across the bare skin of her neck. I turned away as he murmured soothingly into her ear.

It was going to be a long day.

Everyone seemed to congregate at my aunt and uncle's house. Members of the pack, their wives and children, Sue Clearwater and even Billy Black. They came and went all morning long until every room was crowded and noisy, and a step couldn't be taken without tripping over a little kid. I wanted to hide up in my room, but there were chores to be done, people to talk to, my little cousins and their friends to keep from trashing the house...

I knew I didn't really want to hide though. Mostly I just wanted Quil.

The day seemed to drag on endlessly without him. Eventually the rain stopped and the sun managed to fight its way through the thick overhead clouds, but it was a weak sort of light that fell on us. There was no warmth to it. Every time the door opened, my head reflexively snapped in that direction—only to have my heart fall when I saw it wasn't him. It was never him.

After a quick makeshift dinner Emily walked up to me, holding the phone. "Claire, you need to talk to your mom. She's expecting you back right after dinner."

"Oh no!" I moaned, rubbing my eyes. Guiltily I realized that I'd forgotten her. "Someone needs to tell her to be careful and to stay inside— god she's never going to believe any of this!"

Emily was looking at me funny. "You want to stay here in La Push then?"

"Of course I want to stay," I frowned, before disregarding her odd question completely. "What am I supposed to tell her?"

Emily nodded sympathetically and began dialing. "Let me talk to her first."

I waited tensely while Emily gave my mom a brief synopsis; even from 4 feet away I could hear my mother's voice grow frantically high pitched as my aunt tried to explain. I felt the ice in my own stomach spread when I heard the matter-of-fact way Emily spoke of what was happening.

At last, my aunt handed the phone to me. "She wants to talk to you."

I took it gingerly, almost expecting it to burst on fire second the second it touched my ear. I knew for certain that this would not be the easiest conversation I'd ever had.

"_Claire_!" my mother's shrilly voice cried into the telephone. "What on earth is going on?" I rubbed my eyes and glanced at Emily. She gave me a small encouraging smile. "I want you home right now!" she demanded.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "I'm sorry mom, but…no."

I could almost hear her mouth drop open in shock. "_No_?" she repeated. "Claire, come on_, _come home. I don't want you all by yourself in La Push."

"I'm not alone. Sam and Emily are here, and Quil—"

"Is _that_ why you want to stay? Because of Quil?"

No way did she want to hear the answer to that one. I ignored her question. "Aren't you forgetting something—this is the safest place I can be right now. Do you think Sam or Emily, or Quil—or anyone else for that matter—is going to let anything happen to me?" She was silent.

I took a deep breath to prepare myself to say the words that would hurt her more than the rest. "Mom, this is where I belong."

She exhaled. "This _is_ about him." Her voice turned pleading. "You're only seventeen Claire. You have no idea what it's like… You're so young…" she trailed.

"I'm old enough to know what matters," I said quietly. "You and Dad can come here if you want, it might be safer, but I'm not leaving."

"You have school tomorrow," was her last ditch effort.

"Will you call them for me?"

"You really want me to give you permission to stay there and face god knows what? I'm your mother Claire—and I want you home!"

"I'm not asking for permission," I said softly.

She sucked in her breath. "Fine. If that's the way you want it then."

And then she hung up on me.

I knew that as far as teenage rebellions went, mine was fairly tame. Colleen had gotten into all sorts of trouble when she was my age. Still my…_ rejection_—which was the only word that seemed to fit—would hurt my mother far more than Colleen's crazy escapades. In her eyes I'd chosen sides, declared my allegiance, picked Quil over her. And what made it even worse was the fact that this wasn't some high school fling. I'd never go crying back to her when it ended, because it never would end. Was she ready for that?

I sighed and turned the phone off, letting my head fall into my hands. I suddenly had a throbbing headache. It felt like my head was going to crack in two. From the living room came an ear-splitting squeal followed by a loud crash, and a chorus of apologies. I rolled my eyes. What had those kids wrecked now?

There was no peace here, no space to think. "I have to get out of this house _now_!" I moaned.

xXx

The waves crashed angrily against the rocky shore. It was twilight; the sun was just beginning to set behind the thickly overcast sky. For the first time it was peaceful, quiet— I breathed in deeply, and felt my headache start to fade.

Aunt Emily had been torn about letting me go down to the beach for a quick walk. I could see the struggle play across her face, her sympathy for me, against her orders from Sam. She knew, probably better than anyone, how the day inside around so many people had left me feeling stifled, especially after that terrible conversation with my mother.

"I promise I'll be careful," I pleaded. "Just one quick walk; I'll be back before anyone has time to miss me.

Emily's smile was worried, but at last, she nodded. "Just don't go too far, ok?"

A huge grin broke across my face as I half ran down to First Beach. The cool, salty air felt divine against my skin.

I knew that Emily probably wouldn't want me to go too far, but my feet weren't listening to my head at the moment. They carried me further down the beach than I'd intended, to a low dry piece of driftwood. The gentle curve of the cliffs behind me shielded me from sight, and I was glad for that. No one had ever really understood why I needed to be alone sometimes. I didn't quite understand myself; I only knew that when the thoughts in my head became too complicated, too muddled, I needed solitude to put all the pieces straight.

The wind blew across my face lightly, teasing the loose strands of my hair. I lifted my face to the breeze and watched the sun as it sunk down over the horizon. My sleepless night was catching up with me, as my eyes unwittingly started to close. I lingered there, walking that fine line between wakefulness and sleep when a sound woke me from my daze.

I looked up, but there was nothing, not even a shadow. Nonetheless I felt unnerved, almost like there was something watching me. The sun had disappeared completely, the only light coming from a sliver of moonlight, and the darkness felt suddenly stark and claustrophobic.

I forced my voice to work, but it sounded uneasy, even to me. "Is anyone there?" I asked, unsure why I bothered. Of course I was alone… but there was still that strange feeling… I peered deeper into the darkness, but could see nothing.

I stood up hastily; I had lingered too long on the beach. Emily would be worried about me by now, and that wasn't fair to her after she'd been so good to me. I started walking away as quickly as I could.

But a voice, smooth and velvet called me back.

"Going somewhere?" It asked. I spun around, almost tripping on piece of driftwood. My eyes strained against the darkness, but I couldn't see anything. Still, I heard the almost inaudible catlike footsteps walking towards me. He stopped 10 feet away in a patch of moonlight. My breath left me in a ragged, torn gasp.

He was medium height, and in the light he looked like he was carved from marble—pale, deathly pale and unnaturally beautiful. Frantically I tried to match his features to one of the Cullen men that I had seen the night before. But this vampire was raven haired and slight compared to the others. Still, I tried desperately, unable to consider the alternative. And then a cloud shifted above us and the light became stronger. I saw with perfect clarity.

His eyes were blood red.

He smiled at me, a savage sort of grimace, daring me to run. I stayed frozen.

"You're the first human I've seen in several days." His voice was honey sweet and soft, coaxing. I stayed silent, my heart racing in my chest. I could hear the blood pounding behind my ears; the noise was so loud that I couldn't make out the sound of the waves crashing onto the beach anymore.

"Do you know what I am?" Unwillingly, I felt myself nodding; his smile became even wider. "Lucky for me—it makes this all so much sweeter, don't you think?"

The vampire was teasing me; he and I both knew the inevitable ending, but he refused to make the move that would lead to it. I hated him for dragging it out so long. This was all a game to him, a sick horrible game, and I was trapped on the playing board.

"You _smell _simply lovely," he crooned, tensing as if to spring.

In that instant, pointless useless thoughts ran lightning speed through my mind. None of it would do any good, but it felt better than waiting for this monster to begin in this eerie slowed down moment of terrifying anticipation. I hated myself for taking a shower, for changing my clothes and losing the wolves scent. I thought of Emily and my silly, sweet cousins. I thought of my room back home and how I would never sleep there again. Never see Katie or my sister again. Never get the chance to apologize for the last words I'd spoken to my mother...

But I didn't think of _him _any more than I had to. Death I could comprehend, not losing him.

The creature let out a low, throaty chuckle, obviously enjoying the tense wait. He was still waiting for me to run, but I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. And even if I wanted to, my legs could not move a single inch. I was frozen. I wanted to close my eyes, so I wouldn't have to see him dart towards me, but like my legs, my eyes would not obey. At last, he took the first step; he was all slow- motioned grace. I gasped…

An ear-splitting howl echoed through the air.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, an enormous grey blur crashed into the vampire. I stumbled backwards, away from the snapping and growling of the two forms in front of me. The wolf had backed away after getting the vampire's attention and he was now circling him, lunging forwards trying to grab any part of his enemy. The vampire was crouched low, snarling at the werewolf, his hands outstretched, ready to seize.

Every cell in my body was screaming at me to run, to go back to La Push and get as far away from this as I possibly could, but I was frozen in place by some kind of horrible fascination as I watched their deadly dance. Where were the other wolves, I wondered desperately. They should be close by; they should know what was happening by now.

I stared at the grey wolf, trying to figure out if it was Jared, or Paul, or someone else, but I didn't know the pack well enough to tell them apart. Quil was the only one that I had ever seen closely in his wolf form, and he'd only told me stories about the rest.

_Quil_… the name sent a shock of fear through my heart. Was he ok? Why wasn't he here yet? He would be angry that I hadn't run away as soon as the werewolf appeared, that I hadn't tried to save myself; I had to force my petrified limbs to move. Slowly I began to back away, intending to run as soon as I was around the bend of the cliff and out of their sight.

But before I could take two steps backwards, a loud sound forced my attention back to the fighting. It was the sound of granite being ripped apart and shattered. The wolf had gotten the upper hand at last; a large chunk had been bitten out of the vampire's shoulder. The wolf twisted, flinging the lump as far away as he could.

The vampire hissed in anger and agony, launching himself wildly at his opponent, moving so fast that I couldn't see him clearly. The air around me hung still at the sound of the wolfs pained yelp as the vampire threw him heavily against the cliff face where he landed with a sickening crunch of bones. All thought of leaving left me, as I stood, unable to take my eyes off of the enormous, trembling wolf who lay huddled in a broken heap on the ground, surrounded by smashed bits of rock and debris. A strange strangled moan escaped my lips; the werewolf raised its head and looked at me. Our eyes locked for an all too brief moment.

He was trying to get up, but each movement sent a whimper and a shudder through his body and he collapsed in pain. His left front paw hung uselessly in front of him, bent in a grotesque angle. Blood matted the silver of his fur.

The vampire stood to one side, breathing heavily. He looked oddly misshapen and crooked with the chunk missing from his shoulder; his grace was all gone now. But that didn't stop him from being terrifying as he let out a low chuckle and slowly advanced towards the wolf. The werewolf whined and tried frantically to stand and meet the coming attack, but I knew he wouldn't be able to.

_Run _my mind was screaming. _Run!_ It was only a matter of time before the bloodsucker killed my protector and turned towards me. This was my only chance to get away, while the leech was too distracted. _Think of Quil, _my thoughts commanded; agony twisted my insides—he would be brokenhearted if I didn't survive this, running was the only thing I could do.

But… it was like watching an animal that's fallen through the ice trying madly to pull himself back up to safety. You can see the sheer exhaustion in their eyes as their deadened legs scramble uselessly on the slippery surface and the freezing water numbs them. The struggle to survive despite the pain.

…I couldn't leave the wolf. My only protector. Even if there was nothing I could do, I couldn't leave him behind to die alone.

The vampire's teeth glinted in the moonlight, his smile was menacing and beyond frightening. He was doing what he had done before with me—drawing out each movement, letting the dread and anticipation build with each step—giving the wolf time to imagine the painful death that awaited him.

It all happened so quickly. One moment the vampire was just standing 10 feet away, and then in the blink of an eye, he was before the wolf, his open palm colliding with the werewolf's shoulder, sending him crashing into the cliff face again. He circled, growling lowly. The utterly inhuman sound made me shiver.

The high-pitched whine of the wolf sounded like a human scream.

"Leave him alone!" I screamed. The vampire's head snapped up towards me, his blood red eyes caught mine. I saw instantly that he had forgotten all about me in the struggle. With a sinking feeling I realized that he would not have remembered me until I was long gone. I stood motionless under his stare.

"Excellent, a snack for when I'm done killing this dog." He licked his lips slowly. "I'm still quite hungry and I doubt this… thing would whet my appetite. If the stench is any indication, it tastes revolting."

Before I even had time to blink, the vampire was standing in front of me. He was so close that his cold, sweet smelling breath blew onto my face. I shivered. "_You_ on the other hand, I'll bet you're especially delicious…."

With a long marble finger, he traced the line of my jaw, stroking my face with a feather light touch. And then his hand slid lower, wrapping around my neck loosely. "Aren't you going to cry—beg me to spare your life? I like it best when they do that." His hand tightened until I couldn't breathe. He was going to snap my neck.

From somewhere behind me I heard the wolf growling, but I couldn't register it. My eyesight turned hazy, my body thrashed against his hold, wanting air but there was no air. Black spots clouded my vision.

And then, just as suddenly as he'd grabbed me, he let go. I fell heavily onto the sand, gasping and choking as I rushed to pull oxygen into my deprived lungs. It wasn't until my breathing steadied that I realized he was laughing at me.

"So weak," he spat, crouching in front of me, pushing the side of my face into the sand.

"I'm not afraid of you," I rasped, hoping it would put him over the edge. I wanted him to get this over with and just kill me. I couldn't stand this torture anymore.

He pressed his finger to the side of my face again, dragging it along my cheek, scratching the skin with his granite fingernail.

"Tell me, will you cry when I rip this mongrel to pieces?" I whimpered, trying to keep quiet. He only laughed louder.

And then with a lethal growl, the grey wolf attacked.

It was over in seconds. A heavy thudding sound echoed as the wolf hurled the head and shoulders of the vampire as far away from us as possible, before attacking again and ripping another chunk off the mutilated body of the bloodsucker. I lay transfixed as the wolf lunged again, one last time, before collapsing in the sand.

Around me lay the bits and pieces of the vampire; they were still twitching. The ground was splattered with blood and the sight of it woke me from my trance. I wanted to fall onto my knees and curl into a ball, and wait for Quil to find me, but I forced my deadened legs to move towards the werewolf. I crawled towards him, threading my fingers through his blood-matted fur.

He was whimpering quietly; with every rise and fall of his chest the shivering increased, blood was pouring from several long gashes on his side.

"_Oh no, oh no, oh no…_" I moaned. There was so much blood and so many wounds, I didn't know what to do or how to stop the bleeding. "_Please_ be ok." My voice was a hoarse whisper. The wolf raised his head feebly to look at me a moment, but then his eyes slid closed and I was all alone.

At the top of my voice, I screamed Quil's name.

"Don't leave me, please don't leave me," I pleaded desperately to the wolf. My hands and clothing were covered with his blood, but I held on tightly. It felt like hours, but in reality it was only seconds that we stayed like that. And then, the werewolf began to shake violently, and I knew it was caused by more than just the pain. I pushed myself backwards onto the balls of my feet and stared at the huge figure in front of me.

The quivering intensified, the shape blurred for a second, until all the colors ran together and I couldn't distinguish one feature from another. Cold grey fur was replaced with cold cinnamon skin as the wolf returned to its human form.

The air was knocked out of my lungs. _It was Leah. _Beautiful, distant Leah, who was supposed to be in Seattle right now, far away from this. Leah, covered in blood, her arm twisted into a limp, disfigured mass, curled tightly against her side. Leah lying in a broken bloody heap.

Quickly, I shrugged out of my jacket and tucked it around her bare skin, protecting her from the chilly air. There was so much blood, and nothing I could do…

"Leah," I whispered, brushing the sticky hair off her forehead. Her eyes were closed tightly and she didn't make a sound; she looked dead. I held her hands tightly in my own, as if that could somehow keep her here with me

"Quil!" I screamed again, agony tearing at me. I felt like I was going to break apart into a million little pieces with the pain. Why wasn't he here yet?

Her eyes opened into thin slits, she drew in a ragged breath. "He's coming," she whispered, before her head fell back against the sand and her eyes closed.

xXx

I felt his arms around me, he was trying to make me let go of Leah, but I clutched her tightly. "Claire, Claire," his voice murmured against my hair, his arms wrapped around my shoulders and drew me away. Sam was kneeling next to her now and the look in his eyes was too painful. He tucked my jacket more firmly around her and cradled her in his arms. He ran faster than I had ever seen anyone move—even the vampire.

Out of the darkness, three enormous, but familiar forms emerged and began to pile the white stone-like pieces of vampire together. Still keeping tightly a hold of me, Quil moved towards it. I cringed away, not wanting to be anywhere near those monstrous pieces, but Quil told me I didn't have to be afraid anymore. It was over. He lit a match, and the brief bright light blinded me for a moment as it fell down onto the indistinguishable mass. He added another match, and then another and another, until the whole pile burned brilliantly, emitting a strange chokingly sweet odor.

"It's over," he whispered again, before drawing me up into his arms and running as fast as he could back to La Push.

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**Review Please!**


	26. Chapter 25: Desperate

**Author's Note: Kill Leah?? How evil do you guys think I am? Well… I probably would have done it if I felt like it was important to story :-D Luckily I really like Leah, and she has a role to play in the next chapter.**

**So, writing an action scene was a lot of fun. I think it was the first one I've ever written. But now, it's on with the angst!**

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"It must have been a scout, sent ahead of the rest to gather as much information as he could," Carlisle said in a low, worried voice. His gaze flickered towards me. "He must have been very hungry to hunt in La Push… or mad."

Quil's arm tightened around me, pressing me even closer to his side. He had not let go of me once since bringing me back to La Push, and I was grateful for that. His arm, and his heat were the only things keeping me from shattering.

"And Leah?" Emily asked, appearing suddenly at Sam's side. While waiting for Carlisle—who thank God, had been in Vancouver not Alaska—she had only left her cousin's side once, and that had been to make sure I was okay.

"Leah will be fine," Carlisle reassured her. "Her arm was broken, but I've reset the bone and it's healing nicely," he smiled grimly. "I wish all my patients could recover so quickly….But the fight took a lot out of her, she needs time to rest."

I slunk further into Quil's arms, wishing the floor would open and swallow me whole. It was all my fault, this whole terrible situation and I felt unbelievably guilty; because of me Leah might have died. If I hadn't just sucked it up and stayed inside… Quil leaned down to kiss my undamaged cheek, but that only made me feel worse. How could I have done that to him? What if Leah hadn't come in time?

"And how are you?" Carlisle asked, turning towards me.

"I'm fine," I said quickly. I didn't need any more attention.

"Are you sure? How did you get that scratch on your face?"

"The vampire," I managed to mumble, making sure not to look at Quil.

"May I?" Carlisle asked, holding out his hand. I nodded, and felt his cold fingers gently prod my cheek. I shivered. "And he did this with his fingernail?" I nodded again; I could feel the strength of Quil's stare. "You're very lucky he didn't press any harder. It would have ended very quickly if he'd drawn blood."

Carlisle's face went hard as he examined the bruises on my neck, his fingers ghosting over my skin, pulling away the collar of my shirt so he could see the extent of what had happened. "You're very lucky Claire," he said softly.

"I know." And I meant it. The reason for my incredible luck was upstairs; I had heard her scream as Carlisle reset her broken bones….

Quil's hand tightened on my shoulder. The room was so oppressively silent that even my breathing seemed too loud.

A sudden ringing noise cut through the silence. Carlisle reached into his jacket and pulled out a sleek, silver cell phone. His voice was so low and fast that I couldn't understand a word of what he said. After five minutes, he snapped the little phone shut. "That was Alice. She's just had a vision; the vampires will be up around Lake Wentworth at 8:15 tomorrow morning. Emmett, Jasper, Alice, Edward and Bella are on their way here now."

"_Why_?" Sam asked sharply. "Did she see something we need to be worried about?"

Carlisle shook his head. "No, nothing has changed."

"Then there's no reason for your family to involve themselves." My head snapped up. After seeing… what I had seen on the beach, I wanted the pack to have as much help as they could get. I wanted those vampires as outnumbered as possible. And who better to help than the Cullen's? Sam continued, "I know you dislike fighting against your own kind and I won't ask you to. It's not your fight."

Carlisle shook his head. "You've helped us before when you didn't have to, let us do the same."

The two men shared a long look. Finally Sam nodded. I let go of the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

Carlisle left soon after, needing more morphine for Leah. He promised he would be back as soon as he could. When he was gone, the tension returned with a vengeance. Only Sam, Emily, Quil and I remained in the little kitchen. I turned a little so I could see Quil. His face was stony, but he managed a weak smile.

I took a deep breath. I couldn't put this off any longer. "I'm so sorry Quil. If I hadn't been such an idiot none of this would have happened. Leah wouldn't—but I wasn't thinking—" I rambled, but Quil put his finger against my lips, stopping me.

"Please don't apologize Claire," he said quietly; I could hear the edge of anger in his voice. "You didn't do anything wrong." He held my face lightly in his big warm hands, touching me like I was made of glass and one deep caress would shatter me. With the barest movement of his thumb, he traced the long angry red mark on my cheek. His eyes were intense. Pitch black. I realized with a start, that I had never seen him look so angry before.

His fingers trembled against my skin and he sucked in a deep breath to calm himself, but it did no good. His face twisted up into a sharp grimace, and the shaking worsened until his whole body shuddered. I knew exactly what was happening but I couldn't move away. The pain in his face kept me firmly rooted to the spot. I covered his hands with my own

"Quil, get away from her!" Sam growled, but Quil was already gone.

He stood, his eyes closed, breathing heavily, in the furthest corner of the little kitchen. I could see him struggling to regain to control.

"Quil, calm down. It won't do any good."

Quil's eyes popped open furiously. "He _touched _her Sam. He hurt her—what if Leah hadn't been there?" His voice sounded strangled, and I could hear the edge of pain in it. I wanted to go him and wrap myself up in his arms. I knew for sure that the second I touched him, his anger would subside. But Quil didn't want me touch him yet, I could see it very plainly on his face. He wanted to lose himself in his anger.

"I'm fine. He didn't hurt me," I said quietly. Our eyes met across the room.

"You almost died. I know you're not _fine_ at all" His jaw clenched together tightly. "That bloodsucker got too goddamn close!"

For a brief second, I thought he had lost control. His face screwed up in anger and his edges became fuzzy, but he pulled himself back together at the last moment and turned, sinking his fist into the wall.

The whole house shook. Plaster and lathe rained down onto the floor as the force of Quil's blow left the whole wall cracked and a gaping hole into the living room.

We all stood there, stunned. Quil stepped away from the wreckage, the anger gone from his eyes.

"Emily—Sam, I'm sorry," he apologized. "I promise I'll fix it."

Emily didn't say a word. She walked towards Quil, her arms outstretched and wrapped her arms around him, stroking his face and murmuring quietly into his ear.

I felt a momentary stab of jealousy that he would turn to her for comfort, not me, but the feeling disappeared as soon as it came. After a few long minutes, Emily pulled away.

"Come on Claire," she said, reaching for my hand. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

As I left the room, I saw Quil sink into a chair beside Sam with a great exhalation of breath.

I followed my aunt up the stairs. "I'm so tired, I almost just want to curl into bed and sleep," I confessed when she led me to the bathroom.

"I don't blame you, but you need to wash the smell of you first," she sympathized.

I frowned. "Smell?"

"The vampire. Quil can still smell him on you; it's what's making this so much harder for him."

I had completely forgotten! I raised my sleeve to my face, but there was nothing but the faint smoky sweet residue left by the fire smoke. Hurriedly, I closed the bathroom door behind me and undressed, wanting to get it off me as quickly as possible. But a quick glance in the mirror left me too shocked to continue. I turned to get a closer look.

My hair was more disheveled than usual and my eyes swollen from crying, but worse than that, I could see the trace of bruises beginning to flower along my neck. By tomorrow they would be vivid purplish blue and ugly. But those things were nothing that a shower and a few high-necked shirts couldn't fix; no matter what I did, the long thin red scratch on my face wouldn't go away so easily. I stared at it, remembering the feel of the leech's icy fingers on my skin, the pain…. I took a shaky breath, hating the bitter visible reminder.

After a long shower, with the water turned up hotter than I could normally stand, I wrapped myself in a towel and crept down the hall to my bedroom.

As I passed the stairs, I could hear Quil's voice quietly, low and tired, drifting upstairs from the living room. I stood, transfixed.

"Please don't ask me to leave her." My heart jumped at the anxiety in his voice.

"You need to sleep Quil. Now that we know what time they're coming, we need to be ready."

I shifted a little, so I could see down into the living room. Quil was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands.

"Sam," he sounded broken somehow. "I can't get the image out of my head—that _thing_ touching her. He got so close, I promised myself that I'd never let one of them touch her. Ever. Not after what happened to Kim." He raised his face to Sam's and took a deep, ragged breath. "I keep hearing her scream….Please don't ask me to leave. _I can't." _

"You have to," Sam said simply.

I wanted to go downstairs and crawl into Quil's lap and give him the comfort and reassurance he needed, while taking the comfort I needed as well. But it wasn't time for that. When Quil came to say goodnight to me would have to be enough. I pulled myself away from Quil's voice and went back to my room to dress.

I had been perched on the edge of my cousin's narrow twin bed for five minutes when I heard his knock. Emily had sent her kids for a sleep over at Jared and Kim's house, wanting to keep them away from the chaos here. I'd taken one of their rooms as Leah was currently in the guest bedroom.

"Claire?" he called.

"Come in."

Quil filled the little room, making it feel small, changing the whole atmosphere. He knelt in front of me, and he was so big that our faces were on the same level. I reached out to rest my hands lightly around his neck. For the first time since the whole miserable day began, I felt calm.

Quil's arms wound around my waist and he laid his head gently on my lap, breathing in deeply. At last, he pulled away. "I have to go Claire." He kept his hands around my waist, tracing lightly. I could see the struggle in his face. He didn't want to leave.

I didn't want him to leave either. As hard as it was to admit to myself, the idea of being alone scared me; I wanted him to stay and keep me comforted. Already, anxiety was rising through my chest, tightening it and making it harder to breathe right. But I knew that if I let him see how scared I was, that it would make it even harder for him to go. I pushed away the worry, and leaned forwards to kiss him

"When will you be back?"

He sighed. "Tomorrow. I'll come to you straight after…." He didn't finish the sentence. We both knew what he meant. I nodded, and let him pull me in for a kiss. Quil had never kissed me like this before; it was harder somehow, edgy, desperate. I pressed him even tighter to me, but he pulled away.

"I'm so sorry Claire. I'm sorry I couldn't get to you in time."

I tried to kiss away his guilt, but he stood, and with one last look, he was gone. A few seconds later, I heard the front door slam.

I wrapped myself up in a blanket and desperately willed myself to sleep.

But sleep would not come. Every time I closed my eyes I saw pale, marble skin. Every cool gust of air across my face reminded me of _his_ frozen, ultra-sweet breath. His red eyes glinted murderously at me.

I threw back the covers, breathing heavily, my exhaustion burned away by the pure adrenaline generated by my memories. It was only 9:45— and the prospect of a whole night with this anxious, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach was too much.

There was only one thing that would make me feel better.

I crept downstairs to the kitchen. Sam and Emily were sitting at the kitchen table. I kept my head down, not saying a word as I bent to put on my shoes and jacket. I could feel their eyes burning into me. Just as I reached out for the door handle, Sam's voice called me back.

"Quil needs his rest Claire," he said quietly, his voice not unkind. I knew he recognized the struggle in me, empathized with my need. I nodded and grasped the handle. "_Claire_," he said warningly.

I raised my face to his and we shared a long look. I wasn't backing down, I _couldn't. _

At last, Emily laid a hand on Sam's shoulder, pulling his eyes from me. "Let her go Sam. She needs this, they both need this."

I didn't bother waiting for his nod. I was past it, only physical restraint would keep me from going to Quil tonight. The cool air buffeted my face as I hurried to Quil's house, which was luckily close by.

He was sitting on the couch when I entered, his eyes closed, his head leaning back against a pillow, exposing the long line of his throat. I kicked off my boots and jacket and walked towards him.

"Claire," he said simply, raising his head and holding his arms out for me. I climbed into his lap and leaned against his shoulder, drinking in his warmth, wrapping it around me like a protective blanket. His fingers ran through my hair, and I pressed into the touch, trying to forget the fear that was rising in my chest. I held on to him tighter.

I couldn't take my eyes off him as I memorized his face—the green and chocolate colored flecks in his eyes, the smooth arch of his eyebrows, the contours of his jaw and cheekbones. I etched every line permanently into my memory.

He kissed me then slowly, gently. Normally I loved the way Quil kissed me. It was still so new, so different, so much more than I'd ever expected, more than I'd ever thought possible. But tonight I needed more, I needed him to make me forget.

I shifted in his lap until I was straddling him, and kissed him deeper, letting my tongue learn the shape of his lips and the taste of him by heart. I drank in his gasp and went back for more sighs and more moans, letting them fill the emptiness inside me.

Quil's hands ran up my back, underneath my t-shirt, making me shiver as his hands ran across my ribs, pressing deeply. I was on fire, every place he touched burned with wild heat.

Our breaths came in short hard pants as we fought against the need to breathe, and threw ourselves deeper into the inferno. I tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt, letting my hands glide across his hard abdomen as I bent to kiss the line of his jaw and throat, moving downwards to his collarbones. Fear burned inside of me and I pressed harder against him, trying to make it fade. I couldn't lose_ this… _anything but this.

I moved back to his lips and our mouths danced together frantically. I moaned into his mouth and moved against him, pressing my hips deeper against him, seeking that exquisite friction—

Quil pulled back with a strangled groan. His hands clamped against my wrists tightly, holding me away from him. I struggled, but his gentle fingers pressed down tighter as I tried unsuccessfully to get closer—I felt the nothingness in my arms. I needed to touch him.

"We can't do this," he said quietly, his breath coming hard. He was holding me easily, without effort, despite my frenzied thrashing.

"Why not?" I gasped. There would be bruises on my wrists in the morning, but I didn't care, I wouldn't stop fighting him. "Please, _please," _I moaned, but the iron manacles did not give in. He would not let me reach for him.

I could feel hot tears falling down my cheeks, my eyes blurred. I hated my own weakness! I hated Quil for not letting me hold him, for not letting me take this where I so badly needed it to go.

"Is it because I'm too young?" I asked desperately. "Do I _feel_ too young to you?" I pressed against him again, causing his breath to hitch, leaving him in one long hiss. His hands untwisted with mine and shot out to grip me by the shoulders, stilling my movements, but I wouldn't stop struggling. "Just give in Quil, please," I whimpered, but still he kept silent.

I was frantic. The horrible worry that had been gnawing me all evening, that had been so briefly kept away by Quil's touch was returning even worse than before. It rose up through my chest, centering in my heart. Angry frustrated tears began to trickle down my face—I slumped forward, the fight lost. Quil's arms encircled me tightly, nestling me against him. Gently he brushed the tears away as I sobbed against his chest, leaving a large wet tearstain on his shirt.

"I'm so sorry Claire," his voice was pained. I shrugged and pressed myself closer, greedy for the comfort that he gave, but he raised my face to his, and I saw that his eyes were burning with the same desire and worried edge that I felt.

"Someday we _will_ do this," he said fiercely. "When there is nothing hanging over our heads, no danger or stress—just you and me. And I'll show you exactlyhow much I love you, exactly how much I want you. But not like this, not when we're so scared of losing each other."

"I wish I knew how to make you," I said, tears falling wildly down my cheeks. "I wish I knew how to make you want me so much that you'd never want to stop this, and you'd forget that you're strong enough to stop me."

"Look at me Claire," Quil said softly, running his hand along my face. "You're right, I am strong. I don't get cold, my injuries heal almost instantly, I don't get tired very often…. And yes, I'm strong enough to stop you too. You'd think that would be enough."

His gaze caught mine and held it intently. I looked up at him, confused as he went on. "Do you remember the day on the beach—the day when I left you—" I nodded quickly. It was something I would never forget. "And you were so mad that you were hitting me and screaming 'I want to hurt you' and you were so frustrated because you _couldn't. _I had to stand there and let you let you yell at me, watch your little fingers get all red and scraped." He held them absently now, delicately in his huge hands. "I knew you'd hate me more if I made you stop, if I proved I was stronger than you that way too."

I thought back to that day, to the swelling anger that had built up inside me. He was right; I _had_ wanted to hurt him, to find a vulnerable chink in his iron armor, just like now I wanted to find weak spot in his resolve. Why did he always have to be so unbreakable? "I remember."

He smiled at me, a rueful expression on his face. "But the truth is, I'm not strong at all, not when it comes to you. Before that day I had never been hurt before—nothing more than superficially I mean, not _really _hurt. But that day I felt pain for the first time, real pain, when you told me you hated me and I saw what I was doing to you."

"You know I didn't really mean it don't you? I was just mad." My tears were beginning to dry, as I listened intently to his story.

"I know, but it was all I could think about for weeks. The guys thought I'd gone crazy. You see, that's when I realized exactly how _much _power you have over me—even more than imprinting I mean. You're the only one who can hurt me, _really _hurt me, maybe not physically, but in ways no one else can, ways I didn't even know about.

"When I heard you scream my name tonight, I was so scared I wouldn't be able to get to you in time; it was like my heart froze in my chest and didn't start beating again until I saw you. I don't know what I would do without you." His voice broke.

I held him to me tightly. "I'm so sorry Quil, I should have just stayed inside."

"You shouldn't even have to worry about things like that! You should never be scared. I hate myself for putting you this situation."

"I want to be here, I want to be with you—I don't care about anything else. I don't regret anything; even if I Leah hadn't come and"— he gave a low growl, but I didn't stop— "I wouldn't regret anything. I love you." I kissed him, little frenzied kisses, trying to reassure him. His hands fluttered against my lower back.

He groaned again and pulled away. "And then you kiss me and I just want to forget about everything and just go with it. Give in."

Lightly I traced his jaw with my hands. "Do it then."

He smiled against my lips. "I wish I could; you don't realize the power you have over me…" he trailed.

"I could say the same thing about you."

He pressed his forehead to mine, and took a deep breath. "Don't tempt me."

Neither of us made a move to separate from each other as we sat there, slowly letting our breathing return to normal, coming down off the frenzied high of our kisses. I let the steady drumming of his heartbeat and his soft hand rubbing circles into my back relax me.

And slowly, that unbearable knot of fear in my stomach began to dissipate.

"I know I should tell you to go back to Sam and Emily…" Quil's voice broke through the easy silence minutes or hours later. "But I can't."

"I wouldn't go even if you did," I murmured into his shoulder. He laughed lightly and the sound thrilled me. I was afraid I would never hear it again.

Suddenly he stood up, and holding me to him tightly, walked quickly through the dark house towards his bedroom. He set me down gently on the bed and turned to rifle through a bureau.

"Here," Quil handed me a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. "They'll be huge on you…" he shrugged. "I'm going to call Sam and tell him not to expect you home tonight.

"Do you think Sam will be okay with that?"

His eyes met mine. "I don't really care if he is or not." I nodded, feeling exactly the same way.

After Quil left I changed quickly and slid into the bed. The sheets and pillows were saturated with Quil's musky, woodsy scent and I buried my face in his pillow, greedily breathing it in. Soft moonlight flooded the room that I had been in only once before, under much worse circumstances. Unwillingly, my mind traveled back to that horrible day when I thought Quil was going to die. I remembered the sight of him—white and cold as ice—on this very bed.

What if that was the outcome of tomorrow's fight? What if someone else got hurt? Everyone was so confident that it would end well, but I couldn't share in their certainty… I was still more scared than I would admit to anyone, especially Quil. What I had seen tonight—the vampire and wolf moving in a horrifyingly deadly dance would, I knew, haunt me tomorrow. I could only hope that the cost would be no greater than it had been tonight.

Quil's footsteps as he walked down the hallway toward me pulled me from my depressing thoughts. He crawled into the bed beside me, pushing away the sheets I wouldn't need and wound himself around me. He lay his head down on my pillow, moving forward until our faces were only inches apart.

"I love you Claire," he whispered, his breath blowing lightly on my face. I inhaled deeply, giving him my own breath in exchange.

"I love you too Quil."

_No matter what. _

* * *

**All of your questions about Leah and the pack will be answered in the next chapter.**

**Please review! I live off those things.**


	27. Chapter 26: Bound

**A/N: There are some **_**Breaking Dawn**_** spoilers in this chapter, so beware. **

**I meant to get this out much sooner, but I've had wicked writers block, probably because I'm so close to the end. Yup, there's only two more chapters left, plus an epilogue :-( I'm going to be sad when this is all over. It's probably a good thing though, since I'm heading off for my senior year of college tomorrow and I don't need any more reasons to procrastinate. Have no fear about updates though—I always write a lot when I should be doing something else. **

**In this chapter, I'm assuming here that Quil has already told Claire the entire pack history, including Jake and Leah's breaking away to form their own pack. **

**Song for this chap is "On the Bound," by Fiona Apple. **

* * *

I woke alone.

Quil's scent—which I'd happily drowned in the night before—was gone, replaced with the clean, 'spring fresh' smell of Aunt Emily's laundry detergent. I cracked open my eyes and saw that I was back in my cousin's room, in the tiny twin bed with Winnie-the-Pooh sheets. It was dark outside, the only light radiating from the digital alarm clock, which proudly proclaimed the time 5:15.

Great, it was dawn. Instead of waking up _after_ this whole ordeal as I'd originally planned, I'd woken up _before _it even began. Typical.

I lay there, knowing any further sleep was impossible so I didn't even bother to try. Instead, I let the memories from last night wash over me. I remembered what it had felt like to fall asleep in Quil's arms, how perfectly he'd cradled me, the sound of his regular breathing lulling me to sleep… and his exquisite warmth. I shivered, feeling the absence of that heat now. God—these sheets were like ice—I curled, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to trap in the warmth.

Vaguely I remembered being carried half-asleep through the darkness and settled into this cold bed. A hot hand brushing my cheek, and even hotter lips pressing my temple. A whispered promise of "I'll be back Claire."

But those memories weren't helping anything; all they did was make me lonely, and my arms feel very empty. I had to resist the urge to reach out in the blackness, even though I knew what I wanted wasn't there. Just an empty bed in a cold empty room.

I sighed. Despite the early hour, I could hear voices downstairs and the low clink of dishes. Emily must be making breakfast. I pulled myself out of the bed and threw on my thickest socks and a sweatshirt, not bothering to get dressed.

The low murmur of voices got louder as I made my way downstairs. Almost everyone was here—Rachel, Kim, Billy Black, Sue Clearwater, Collin's girlfriend, Embry's fiancé—too many people to process all at once. I made my way to the kitchen, where Emily was busy making muffins; normally she liked baking, but I knew this was a reaction to stress. Her face was grim, though she tried to smile when she saw me.

"Hi Claire, are you hungry?"

I shook my head and pressed myself against the wall, trying to stay inconspicuous. The scratch on my face felt like a beacon, and I knew I was being paranoid but it seemed like everyone was staring at it, judging me. I never liked being the center of attention and it was worse now. After all, because of _me_ Leah had been hurt…

I felt a light touch on my arm and turned to see Kim standing next to me. She didn't say anything but her gaze was not critical. Very carefully, she raised her hand to my face, her fingers hovering but not touching as she traced the scratch on my cheek. There was something in her eyes I couldn't quite describe—empathy, understanding, pity—and I remembered that she too had just barely survived an encounter with a vampire. Only she had come out of it a lot worse off than I had.

We didn't say anything—we didn't need to. We both understood perfectly.

I wondered if she had been mad at Jared afterwards. Blamed him for what had happened to her? I couldn't imagine it, because I couldn't imagine blaming Quil. But it would be crazy to say that nothing had changed. It had for me. The desperation Quil and I had felt last night, how close was never quite close _enough, _was proof of that. When this whole ordeal was over, we would have to deal with the repercussions of that.

And hopefully, those blood red eyes would not haunt me forever.

"It gets better," Kim whispered, pulling me into a hug.

"I hope so," I said, hugging her back. "I don't want to be scared…"

But there was so much more to it than that—vampires had always been abstract, mythical—being told that they really existed didn't make them _real_. Seeing them, how dead, and cold, and strong they were, made me scared not just for _my _sake, but for Quil's.

Was it like that for Kim? For all them? All the women huddled in my Aunt's house. Were they afraid that _this_ would be the day the one they loved didn't come home?

I was.

Kim pulled away. "It's hard Claire, but Quil will help you. And he'll never let anything happen to you again. "

I just nodded. I couldn't voice the worry inside me even though I knew Kim would understand, or Emily. I couldn't listen to their empty reassurances. After all, what promises could they make? They were just as helpless as I was.

I glanced quickly at the clock in the kitchen. It was 6:25 a.m. Alice hadn't seen the bloodsuckers arriving until 8:15, hours away.

Time was crawling…

I wasn't the only one with no appetite despite the mountains of food that Emily cooked. Everyone gathered in the living room, subdued, as the cold grey light began to flood through the windows, casting into sharp relief our pale, worried faces. The only sounds breaking the silence were murmured conversations; anything louder somehow seemed _too _loud.

I sat on the floor leaning against the couch, my head against Kim's knee, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. On the one hand, it was a comforting place to be, with these women who knew exactly what I was feeling because they were feeling it too, but it was a frustrating place to be as well. The atmosphere was oppressive, and I found myself wanting to run away as I had the day before.

A giant elephant was in the room and we were all ignoring it, even though it was cutting off our air and pinning us in place.

There was nothing anyone of us could do but sit here and _wait. _Wait for a phone call, for the door to open, for a howl in the distance to shatter the silence… Wait to know the outcome, helpless to influence it.

I was suddenly very aware of my breathing. Usually it was an unconscious action, so ingrained that I paid it no attention at all. Now I was acutely aware of the whole process. My breaths became heavier, as if a weight was crushing against my chest and my throat tightened making it even harder to pull in air, I was too loud; everyone was going to start staring at me soon. But would breaking through this awful quiet be such a bad thing?

Would yelling and screaming—_making _everyone acknowledge the elephant be wrong? My hands started to shake with the effort of keeping it in.

"How can you take this?" I finally exploded, speaking to everyone and no one at the same time and rushing to my feet. "How can you stand just waiting here while God knows what is happening out there?" I paced angrily from one side of the room to the other, oblivious to the pitying glances around me.

"Doesn't it just make you sick? A bunch of freaking helpless _women, _stuck at home while the _men _go out and fight. Why aren't we all barefoot and pregnant to top it off—we should just stay in the kitchen—where we so obviously belong!" I yelled, half running to the doorway. My aunt's voice called me back. Unwillingly, I paused at the door and turned towards her.

"Claire, where are you going?"

"Don't worry," I spat. "I'll stay inside like a good little girl this time. I've learned my lesson!"

Anger was boiling inside. Anger at being left behind, anger that there was nothing else I could do but pace around the little house uselessly while Quil and the rest of the pack were out there in danger. It rose up through my chest, filling me completely, and it felt so wonderful, so exhilaratingly _freeing, _that I gave myself to it, letting it numb me of everything but the burn. I ran up the stairs wanting to punch something—the wall maybe, like Quil had the night before—I was sure that if I were a werewolf I would have phased a long time ago.

"Useless," I muttered again, running to my cousin's room and slamming the door behind me; the wall shook comfortingly. "I wish I was like Bella, I wish I could help—anything would be better than just sitting here waiting for it to be over." I sighed and threw myself on the bed, raising my arms over my head to block the weak light that filtered through the window.

"I wish I were like Quil, I wish I were a werewolf. I'd be with him right now then." I laughed aloud at the absurdity of my hope, the sheer impossibility of it. No way in a million years was that going to happen, but still, I could admit to myself that I wanted it. Badly.

To be equal… to be able to watch Quil's back as he had always watched mine… to fight back instead of cowering in the sand… to rip that bloodsucker's head off… to finish him myself…

I remembered the way the vampire had taunted me, drawing out each moment, wanting to frighten me. But if I were a werewolf I'd have made _him_ frightened _me. _I smiled viciously as I imagined the whole situation.

_You have no idea what you're getting into here_, I would croon, smiling slightly. The ruby eyes of the vampire would turn confused; I pictured it easily. _My _teeth glinting in the moonlight as I ripped off one arm, then the other, and then his leg, shoulder, torso. He'd be crawling on the sand before I was halfway done. At last, I let myself imagine ripping his head off.

A thousand bits scattered in the sand.

Instead of being afraid, I would be powerful.

A gentle knocking sound interrupted my violent fantasies. "Go away Emily!" I yelled.

But it was not Emily's voice that called back. It was Leah's. I pulled myself into a sitting position as she opened the door. She looked like she'd been mugged, or had gotten into a bar fight or something—only weeks ago instead of just last night. Fading bruises were everywhere, revealed rather than hidden by her cotton tank top. Scabbed over cuts crisscrossed seemingly every inch of her skin. One of her cheeks was still swollen slightly. And of course, her left arm was tight against her side in its sling.

I could still hear the sickening crunch of bones breaking when she'd been thrown against the cliff side.

My fantasy seemed even more stupid now. Leah had just barely survived, if it had been me in that fight, I would have died in the first five seconds.

"Mind if I come in?" she asked quietly. Her voice was deeper than Emily's, and despite her temporarily mangled body, she was beautiful—much taller than me, curvy and toned.

I nodded nervously, and scooted over on the bed to make room for her. She sat down beside me.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Oh, I've been better," she grinned, and an immediate rush of guilt spread through me.

"Leah, I'm _so _sorry—"

She held up a hand, interrupting me. "Claire, _don'_t. It's not anybody's fault. It could have been anyone on the beach, and they wouldn't have been so lucky. Frankly it's a miracle I showed up at Emily's house when I did and she asked me to go find you."

"But it _was _me," I said miserably. "And you almost died."

"Part of the job description," she shrugged nonchalantly.

"I don't think I could be so forgiving."

She looked at me searchingly for a long minute. "I heard what you said, about feeling useless… and wanting to be like Quil."

I flushed. It was one thing to speak that wish aloud when I thought I was alone, but quite another to speak it in front of the one person who actually knew what living my dream was like.

"I don't blame you for wanting that, I can't imagine how hard it must be to stay behind. I never had to…"

"You're lucky then."

She gave a bitter, derisive laugh. "_Lucky?_ I think you're the first person to ever say that to me."

I reeled, confused. I didn't know much about Leah, just that she was no longer part of Sam's pack. I'd never bothered wondering why.

"As hard as it would have been, I would have_ loved_ to stay behind Claire… to be in your place… in Emily's place."

"I don't understand."

Leah raised her eyes to mine. "Didn't anyone ever tell you about me? I thought for sure I was still everyone's favorite subject for gossip." She laughed again, as if she meant her words to be a joke. But I knew it wasn't.

And then Leah dropped her bomb.

"I was in love with your uncle once—back before he knew he was a werewolf, back it was just him and me and the world wasn't effed up like it is now."

"But what about Emily?" I sputtered.

"Back before Emily too." She paused suddenly. "You sure you want to hear about this Claire? It doesn't have a happy ending, not for me anyway."

I nodded, still slightly stunned. I hadn't realized that there ever _was_ a Sam without Emily. It blew my mind.

"We met in High School and… I thought we were going to get married. Even after he disappeared and everything changed, I still thought that." She sighed. "He imprinted on Emily when she came down from the Makah rez to visit me. Well, he saw her and boom it was all over for Sam and me. God I was pissed! Because he couldn't tell me why, or why he was acting so messed up, but he could tell _her_. I was sick of all the secrets, sick of being left out. She shook angrily. "I'm the poster girl for _be careful what you wish for_. I got my wish, only not the way I wanted."

"You became a werewolf?"

"Yup, the first female one in our history, a _freak_," she spat. Long buried anger was boiling to the surface. "I became a wolf and suddenly I _knew _everything…no secrets, no barriers. I knew too much. Quil's told you how when we're wolves, we can hear each other's thoughts?"

I nodded.

Leah only looked at me for a few long moments. Her gaze felt penetrative and far too intimate. She leaned towards me. "If I were still in the pack I would know everything about you Claire. Your secrets and your hopes, things that you've only ever told Quil. I'd know exactly the sound of your sigh when you kiss him and exactly the tone of his voice when he whispers your name."

Leah was looking straight at me. Our eyes were locked together. And yet, I felt that her words were only half for me now.

"I knew every secret, everything hurtful private thing…and there was no escaping it, no forgetting. Too many secrets. Too many wishes I wished I didn't know."

"You saw how Sam felt about Emily." It was not a guess.

She nodded. "I haven't belonged to that pack for fourteen years, but I still haven't forgotten how much that hurt. I was trapped with him, and those thoughts... The first chance I got to get out, I ran."

"I don't blame you," I said in a small voice.

Inside I was reeling. Leah's story was my worst fear come to life—sure Quil never had a Leah, but was I really any better than Emily—even though it wasn't her fault or mine. Someday he _would_ have had a girlfriend. He'd have had a life full of choices, all of which were gone now.

_Not my fault…_

It didn't make me feel any better.

"I used to think I wanted to imprint," Leah said quietly. "To just forget about… who I used to love. It would be easier."

"You still might… someday." It seemed like the right thing to say.

She shook her head. "Nope, it's never going to happen for me. You ever heard Sam's imprinting theory?" I shook my head. "Well, basically he thinks it's all biological, genetic—you imprint on the person you have the best chance of passing the werewolf gene on. Since I _can't _have kids because of what I am, I can't imprint."

I blinked, my sympathy for Leah overshadowed by shock. "Kids? Quil imprinted on me because I'll probably have little werewolf _babies_?"

Leah chuckled.

"God! That's even worse than before!" I moaned. "I'm only seventeen—I don't even know if I want kids!"

"Calm down Claire. Quil doesn't care about having kids. And like I said, it's just a theory, who really knows for sure why we imprint."

"But you still wanted to?" I asked.

I couldn't imagine that, really _wanting _to be bound to another person, to have all your choices stripped away, just to pass on a stupid gene. I wondered what path Quil would have chosen if he'd had the choice.

"There's something attractive about having the choice taken out of your hands. I thought _you_ would have understood, what with Quil and all."

"Sometimes… I'm afraid that it's not fair to him. We've talked about it and I know he's happy but…there's something attractive about free will too, you know?"

She nodded and pulled herself backwards on the bed, so that she was sitting with her back against the wall. I knew she was thinking about her and Sam.

"What about _you _Claire. Have you ever tried picturing a life where Quil hadn't imprinted?"  
Never.

But tonight, in unbidden flashes, I saw it pass in my mind's eye: that life. That _normal _life. All the memories of him I cherished—gone, replaced with other, less perfect memories.

Would I ever feel whole without him? Ever wonder if there was something _more _meant for me?

I would see Quil four maybe five times a year when I went to La Push to visit my family; he'd be a blurred face in the crowd, a name that would never stick in my mind. And no matter what I grew into, Quil would always see me as the little baby I had been; it would color every thought he ever had of me.

But someday, we would meet as adults. One glimpse across the yard at Emily's and he'd leave me too stunned to think straight. And I would know that he was too good for me, too far _beyond _me. Maybe we'd laugh over some joke that only the two of us got and smile at each other. Maybe tremor of _something _would pass between us, reminding us of what might have been—what could be… a whisper of attraction that would never be anything more.

And maybe that night we'd think of each other when we went home, a wistful sort of feeling. No doubt a woman would be waiting for Quil, and no doubt he'd love her. Would it be the same way he loved me? More likely it would be the normal way—the way you're supposed to love someone. He'd be happy.

What would I go home to? A nameless faceless man who loved me—but not in the way Quil loved me—the normal way … and I would love him? I tried to picture it, tried to picture loving a man who had not seen me though every phase of my life, good and bad, who loved me in whatever mood, who knew everything about me, who I could trust no matter what…

I felt sorry for that man because no matter how hard I would try and no matter how much I would want to, I would never be able to give him my whole heart. Even if I had never met Quil, never gotten the chance to love him, my heart would always be a little empty. Its full potential never reached.

Maybe I would never know any better… but I would always _know._

I shivered.

"I wouldn't want that life," I said finally.

"Even if it was easier? Even if it meant never being scared and never knowing that vampires and werewolves exist? Never being in danger?"

I thought about the ruby-eyed vampire on the beach. Even then. "Yes."

Leah leaned towards me. "Then why are you worrying so much? Quil's happy, you're happy…" she shrugged.

It sounded so simple when she put it that way. But it couldn't be.

"What if you'd loved Quil, not Sam? Could you still say that?"

She paused. "If you'd asked me that fourteen years ago, I would have said no… but since I left the pack I've gotten some perspective. It's not as hard as it was now that I don't share the same headspace with him."

"Does that mean you've forgiven him?"

"Well… I wouldn't go that far. But I have a life in Seattle, a boyfriend. It's all very normal and ordinary—sweet. I'm happy." She reached over to nudge me. "See Claire, you don't want to be a wolf, be glad you've got Quil and that he isn't going anywhere. Nobody else has that kind of certainty in their lives."

I frowned. "Still doesn't mean I like being left behind."

"No, none of them do," she said, referring to the women still downstairs. "It's almost funny: on the one hand, you're closer than anyone to their life, but you can never really be completely part of it. Emily used to be a little jealous of me," she smirked. I imagined that jealousy must have given her quite a bit of satisfaction.

Leah looked over at me. "Maybe you should consider it your price."

"Price?"

"Sam and Quil had to give up on one kind of future when they imprinted—that's the price they pay. _You _have to let yourself be left behind sometimes. Neither side is fair exactly, but you're bound together—what other choice do you have?"

I stared at her for a moment, shocked. It was so strange, but it took the one person with the most cause to hate imprinting, to finally make me_ see_. It took Leah—who should be bitter, who should have gloated for having the power I wanted—to make me understand.

I wanted to hug her—this woman who'd always been a mystery to me, but just as I reached out, Leah stiffened beside me. I followed her line of sight to the alarm clock. It was 8:15 exactly. I froze, fear paralyzing every nerve ending in my body; everything around me momentarily forgotten.

The fight was starting…

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**A/N: So next chapter will be the fight scene. Since it obviously can't be in Claire's POV, whose would you like it in? I want it to be one of the wolves, so it can be Sam, Embry, Jared, etc. Or my personal fave: Seth. I have to say that after **_**Eclipse **_**and **_**Breaking Dawn **_**I have a soft spot for Seth. He's so sweet!**

**Anyway, leave me a review and let me know which POV you'd like. Thanks! :-D**


	28. Chapter 27: Ambush

**I am SO sorry for the wait! It took me awhile to really get into this chapter. I spent a lot of time staring blankly at my laptop screen before finally deciding I needed a break. So I distracted myself with schoolwork and thought a lot about how I want to about how I want to end this story. And then, a couple days ago, I actually felt like writing again! Phew. **

**You guys were torn between Seth POV and Quil POV. In the end I decided to go with Seth because I love his comfortable relationship with the Cullens...and also because writing Quil kind of scares me. I know it would end up being sooo sappy! **

**Song for this chapter is "House of Wolves," by My Chemical Romance. I thought the title was pretty appropriate ;-)**

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Seth POV

It was well before dawn when we assembled at the rendezvous point, each of my brothers riding the same jittery high I was. It was almost like old times: the thrill, the anticipation of a _real _fight. So much better than patrolling or taking down a lone vamp. The younger ones who hadn't been around for the newborn fight were thrilled, feeding off our memories, itching to get their own shot—finally! bloodsuckers they had permission to kill. The faint dawn light gleamed off their wide wolfy smiles.

The clearing that Alice had seen up by Lake Wentworth was a long narrow oval, slightly sunken as if it had been a stream bed once. Thick ropes of moss hung from the trees, and rivers of ferns carpeted the ground underfoot. It was thanks to Alice that we knew not only the place, but the direction and the time our enemies would come; now all we had to was wait for them. Not such an easy thing when you're high on adrenaline, feeling not just your own, but the overstrung emotions of the fifteen wolves around you.

Waiting isn't the fun part, but Sam had wanted us here early to prepare, and when it came down to it, waiting here, right on the edge of the action, was easier than staying behind in La Push.

Edward, Bella, Jasper and Emmett had come early as well and they stood to one side, speaking quietly together. I walked towards them, bumping Edward's shoulder when I got close enough. In my wolf form, I was much taller than him and he grinned up at me.

"Hello Seth. You ready for this?" he asked, as I greeted the rest of his family. Emmett punched me on the shoulder, Jasper managed a brief, tense smile, and Bella reached up to scratch behind my ear. My favorite place.

I turned back to Edward and snorted, rolling my eyes. _Of course I'm ready, _I answered back. _Are you? _He nodded.

"Well, _I'm_ sure as hell ready," Emmett's deep voice boomed through the still forest. He punched his fist into his hand. "I've been ready for hours. Are you sure that Alice saw them coming at 8:15 exactly?"

"Yes Emmett. Be patient, it's only a little while longer."

"Why don't we just go out to meet them?" he pressed. "Get it over with quicker."

Jasper shook his head. "Alice thinks we have the best shot here. And at least this way we can catch them off guard and on our terms. We'll stick with the plan." Emmett groaned impatiently.

I nudged Edward's arm again. _Is she okay? Alice I mean. _

Edward frowned. "She'll be fine. She's just a little upset; she wanted to fight too."

_I'm surprised you were able to keep her away. _

He smiled wryly. "Me too. But Alice knows that her visions won't work with the wolves here, and she relies on them too much to fight blind," he hesitated, "And she was afraid that Jasper would get hurt trying to protect her. We all decided there's no reason to take unnecessary risks."

_Good. And the others?_

"Carlisle is getting his medial equipment together—just in case. Alice only sees a small number of our kind coming, it shouldn't be difficult to destroy them, but there's no harm in being prepared. He, Alice and Esme are sticking close to La Push."

_Good, _I thought again. Esme was no fighter; she'd be safer away from this. Even better that they were keeping an eye out on the rez. _And Rosalie?_

"Ahh, Rosalie… she's being Rosalie I suppose."

I snickered. Of course, she wouldn't see why she should involve herself in this messy werewolf business that had nothing to with her. Nevertheless, she was probably in the woods nearby, keeping an eye out on her family, especially Emmett.

Rosalie tried to hide it, but she was such a mama bear.

Next to me, Edward laughed aloud. "You're not wrong."

But I couldn't be upset with her for not fighting. It didn't really matter since Emmett, Jasper, Edward and Bella were _more _than enough help. I glanced over at Emmett, who was smiling dangerously, trying to crack his knuckles. Beside him, Jasper stood completely still, almost like a statue, a look of intense concentration on his face. They were fighting machines, the both of them. And combined with Edward's mind reading, and Bella's freaky force field trick, which would protect us from any extra abilities the bloodsuckers had up their sleeves we were set. Not forgetting the fifteen werewolves with an axe to grind…

The vamps didn't stand a chance.

Edward leaned across to whisper in my ear. "Will Quil be okay?"

I looked over at my friend. He was standing a little away from the rest of the group, his normally easy-going face twisted in a frown. I concentrated on his thoughts—which were just a small hum in the back of my head unless I paid attention. I'd gotten good at tuning out anything that wasn't directed at me. Quil was itching to get this thing over with. He wanted to go back to Claire.

_He'll be fine, _I assured Edward. _But I'll go talk to him anyway. _

Long ago, I'd learned the trick of walking silently, despite my size; Quil didn't even look up when I lay down beside him, resting my head on my paws, listening.

His head was filled with Claire of course, as it had been since the first day he'd imprinted on her… although his thoughts had certainly changed in the following fifteen years. Right now he was remembering how it had felt to have her in his arms the night before. He was tired, since he'd spent half the night awake, just watching her as she slept. It had been the first time he'd ever had a woman in his bed.

I bit back a laugh; glad he wasn't paying any attention to me. For fifteen years, Quil's thoughts hadn't had a single dirty thing in them… not now though. Desire and longing coursed through him as he thought of Claire's soft sighs, the way her arm had curled around his waist, how she'd whispered his name sometimes, the feel of her soft kisses—I pulled away from his thoughts suddenly. There were things about my brothers that I did _not _need to know.

Unfortunately, Paul didn't think so.

_Whoa Quil! _Came his biting intrusion._ Looks like you had some fun last nigh man_. _You better be careful though, Claire's _uncle _is here. You don't want to give him the wrong impression do you? After all, she's barely legal… _

Quil growled warningly, and I rolled my eyes. Paul was such an ass sometimes. As if the whole mind reading thing wasn't awkward enough without the personal commentary—mostly we tried to ignore each other, just like we tried to censor our thoughts. We'd all had slipups though, especially in the beginning. When Paul had first gotten together with Rachel it had been like watching porn.

Thank God Jake hadn't seen any of that. He probably would have killed him. And he wouldn't have been alone.

When it became obvious that Quil wasn't going to respond, Paul shrugged and turned away, pausing when he saw Sam's eyebrow arch disapprovingly at him.

_What? _Paul complained, trying to sound innocent. _Just trying to lighten up the mood a bit here. It's like a freaking graveyard!_

Around us, the forest was gradually lightening, and Paul was right, though _graveyard_ wasn't exactly the word I'd use. The atmosphere was somber, tense. Everyone was trying to stay lighthearted, but it wasn't working. Especially when Quil's thought shifted yet again.

I almost wished he'd go back to thinking about Claire in his bed, because while those thoughts had been amusing, these were just painful_._ _Ah, _I groaned inwardly, closing my eyes, trying not to see what he was seeing. It was the moonlit beach—Claire and the leech. Phantom pain overtook him—and me, as he relived the pure terror he had felt on witnessing that scene. By rights, Quil shouldn't have seen anything since he'd been on the other side of Quileute territory and the only other witness hadn't shared her mind with the pack for fourteen years.

It made absolutely no sense, but somehow, in Leah's panic, she'd managed to call Sam for help. Maybe it was because she'd been in so much pain and so desperate that the regular rules didn't apply anymore, or maybe it was because the bond with her old alpha was still there, just dormant. However it had happened though, the pathways were briefly opened, and Sam was able to hear her thought and look through her eyes. And what Sam had seen, Quil had seen.

We'd _all_ seen it.

The bloodsucker leaning over Claire, his hands wrapped around her throat…him pushing her head into the sand, a long finger pressed against her cheek… I closed my eyes, but the images did not fade, and even worse was the accompanying pain and guilt that Quil felt. It was overwhelming.

_Quil!_ I called his name sharply, trying to pull him back to the present. _You can't blame yourself. It's not your fault. _Shouts of agreement and encouragement filled the minds of the rest of the pack, reminding us—as if we could ever forget, that no conversation was private. But Quil ignored them.

His eyes flashed to mine.

_She almost _died_. Seth… I can't live without her… I can't._

I was suddenly glad that I'd never imprinted. I'd never minded one way or the other, but now, after seeing yet another one of my brother's come so close to losing his mate, I knew I never wanted to feel that way. A werewolf couldn't live without his imprint—he would throw himself into the ocean and let himself drown, he'd pick a fight with something big and dangerous and let it win—he would do whatever it took. And knowing his pain, how could his brothers try and stop him?

Thank God, I wasn't faced with that situation today. Because if he'd lost her, Quil would do his damndest to make sure he didn't come out of this fight alive. And I wasn't ready to just stand aside and let him.

_You don't have to live without her, _I answered_. Claire's waiting for you in La Push. You can go back to her as soon as this is over. _

_What if it never ends? What if they keep coming? _

_You'll keep her safe, _I said simply.

_We'll _all _keep her safe, _Sam said, his 'voice' gently rising above the hum of the rest of the pack. _We'll keep them all safe._ Affirmations sounded throughout the clearing; it was a promise we'd all made before, one we took seriously. But Quil and Sam did not listen to the rest of us. _  
_The shared a long look, not using words, as they made that pact with each other.

At last, Quil nodded. He sighed and laid down beside me.

Paul groaned. _Go back to thinking your happy thoughts_. _Just looking at you is making me depressed. You should seriously think about getting some. _

Paul's thoughts had turned into a porno again. Jared growled swiped at him with his paw

_Hey, I'm serious here! All this sexual repression can't be good for him… _He grinned, turning towards Quil. _What do you think your chances are if you come back a little bruised and bloody? Chicks love that crap. Maybe Claire will want to play 'nurse'. _

I rolled my eyes as Quil launched himself at Paul with a deadly snarl. I couldn't exactly blame him though; one more word and we all probably would have joined him. The two rolled around on the ground, jaws snapping in a way that didn't exactly sound like a play-fight, Quil's rage was giving him the upper hand. But before Sam could break up the fight, a strong gust of wind blew a heart-stopping scent in our direction.

Quil and Paul ripped away from each other, their heads snapping—as every face in the clearing did—towards the scent that burned icily into our lungs. In unison, fifteen wolf hearts sped in anticipation.

Vampire.

The reaction was immediate. Low, excited yelps filled the air, but Sam quickly called for silence. _Follow the plan, _he ordered. _Spread out on either side and take cover in the underbrush._

Silently, we moved, fanning out to circle the narrow clearing on three sides, leaving only one entrance… and no exits. For the bloodsuckers anyway. The wind was at their backs—keeping our scent from reaching them. They wouldn't know what hit them until they were ripped into a hundred pieces.

It was the perfect ambush.

You attack on our turf, we take you down, that was the rule. Maybe before we would have tried to reason with them, especially since the Cullen's were on our side and willing to negotiate. Maybe all it would have took was an impressive show of force, a visible reminder to those bloodsuckers of the threat the pack and their allies posed. After all, there was nothing like the sight of fifteen fully-grown werewolves to make you rethink a few things. Sam and Carlisle had talked about it. But not now. Not after what happened to Claire. Not after what happened to my sister. Because I'd seen more than Claire and the bloodsucker in those brief minutes that Leah had opened her mind to Sam's, I'd also felt my sister's pain.

And that wasn't okay with me.

We were all calm now, determined, each bringing an image to mind of what was most important to us, what we were fighting for. I thought of La Push and my family, Sam thought of Emily and his kids, Quil pictured one last time, the long red scratch on Claire's face. Then we pushed those images away, and let instinct take over. Reflexively, our bodies tightened, like bowstrings. The hair on my neck was standing straight up.

Hundreds and hundreds of years of instinct was ingrained into me. I knew exactly how to move, how to tear, how to circle; I could probably fight on intuition alone. Residual memory, they called it. But all I knew was that I never felt as… _certain _as I did when I had an enemy in sight. Like my body wasn't really mine anymore, but part of something bigger. Something far older.

The bloodsuckers were closer now. I could hear their footsteps.

_Stick to the plan, _Sam ordered one last time. He didn't need to say anything else.

And then, I saw them. Streaks of color against the forest, moving so fast that they were just blurs, but my eyesight was a hundred times better than any human, and I watched, counting them as they ran past_. One, two, three… _I frowned, making sure I'd counted correctly; there were seventeen of them. Alice had only seen eleven in the original party. Minus the vamp that Leah had taken down and there should only be 10 now. But somehow, the odds had evened up.

I didn't have any time to think about it though, because Sam's voice reverberated through my mind. _NOW! _he yelled.

And then I had to move, had to run, had to rip and tear. The stench of them overwhelmed all my senses, hitting me like a fist to the gut, but I pushed it aside, knowing it would fade as I got used to it. I ran down the gentle slope, trampling the ferns that grew there and colliding heavily with the first leech in my path. It hadn't seen me coming, so it was almost easy to ram it into the ground, holding it on it's back with my powerful legs and tearing at the first thing that came into reach. A hand. I spit out, flinging it away, and darting my head down for something else to rip off. I'd do it piece by freaking piece.

Underneath me, the vamp made an inhuman keening sound, writhing and pushing against me. I braced myself, using all my strength to keep it pinned; I only had one more chance to tear something off before it pushed me away. I lunged, sinking my teeth into the leech's shoulder and neck –God I'd never get used to sound of it! Worse than fingernails against chalkboard. I spit out the lump just as the vamp heaved upwards, sending me flying. I landed two feet away.

But I'd been prepared for that, and I scrambled quickly to my feet, twisting my neck so that I wouldn't lose track of my target. But it hadn't moved; it stood, slightly hunched, facing me. It was female—all shiny and angular, and its bright blood red eyes were locked on me.

"You're going to die for that," she hissed, straightening her disfigured body. "I'm going to kill you."

I crouched, a low growl rumbling from my chest. _I'd like to see you try._

I sprang at her, but she was ready for me this time and she sidestepped at the last second, punching my shoulder as I landed where she had been only a second before. I stumbled, feeling something pop and a sharp pain where she had hit me. I whirled again, already making my next move.

It was almost like a dance, the way we fought—lunge, feint, circle, duck—the vamp was tough, I'd give her that, but she was still missing a hand and most of her neck and shoulder. But she wanted it, she wanted it badly.

Riley—my first kill—hadn't wanted it. He'd fought for Victoria, probably knowing everything out of her mouth was a lie and he was being used. But he'd chosen to believe her anyway. He was just a scared kid in over his head. I'd been a kid too, but I'd had a hundred times more reason to fight than him, and I'd been determined to win. And I had. It was no different now.

I lunged again, this time ripping her arm off completely. For the first time fear began to show in her face. She screamed in pain, hissing and snapping at me. I ignored it, feeling my adrenaline kick into overdrive. She was more dangerous now than before… more desperate.

Screaming, she launched herself at me, using her remaining arm and legs to scratch and kick and bite, her fingers digging into my back, her fingernails puncturing the skin. I grunted painfully, an angry shriek escaping my lips that morphed into a vicious snarl. I twisted, flinging her off me. Her hands and feet couldn't hang on and she crashed into the ground.

I was on her in seconds.

I bit and tore at every part of the leech that I could reach. The extremities were easy; I bit off the arm and legs, and then moved onto the head. I had to get her into as many small pieces as possible and then throw all those pieces as far away from each other as I could so that she wouldn't re-form. She was still moving though, and she still looked unmistakably like a body… like a person.

_Don't think about it Seth, just don't think about it, _I chanted as I got through the messy business as fast I could. This was the part I hated—the adrenaline kicked in during the actual struggle, the fight or flight instinct leaving no room for any other thought—but ripping something apart, even if wasn't human, wasn't something I liked thinking about.

When I was done, I looked around for the first time. Some, like me, had already made their kill and were finishing it off. Others were still fighting though, and I watched them carefully to see if they needed any help, but all of my brothers seemed to be fine; I could hear their thoughts anyway, and they were having fun. Edward and Bella were finishing one together—he had the vamps arms pinned to his side while she tore off its head. Jasper was nowhere to be seen, but Emmett was off to one side, a huge smile in his face, and "playing" was the only word I could use to describe what he was doing.

The vamp he was fighting was crouched low, his eyes wild, darting everywhere, looking for an exit. But Emmett had him trapped. I turned away grinning; I knew Emmett was having fun. Probably more fun than he'd had in years.

So… it was almost over then. I was ok, except for a tenderness on my back where the leech's fingers had cut through my skin, and a slight pain in my shoulder whenever I walked. I'd probably dislocated it or something, but that was easily fixed. We were all here—except for Jasper anyway, and if I knew him, he was probably making sure that no bloodsuckers had snuck through. I listened to the thoughts around me, but like mine, all the injuries were minor.

From somewhere behind me I heard a scream; Emmett had finally gotten bored. That was the last one then. It was over and it had been…almost easy. I exhaled in relief.

Sam, who had been everywhere at once during the fight finally slowed down. But he wouldn't let himself relax yet. There were still things to be done. _Let's let La Push know we're all okay._

One after another, we all raised our heads and let out a long, loud howl that would carry to La Push. They would count them there and know that we had all survived and that it was over. Some, like Emily could actually distinguish one from the other.

_Time to get to work. Remember, we're not leaving until we find every single speck. _

We all moved automatically, picking up each fragment we could find and moving it to the center of the clearing. Edward was already standing there, a silver lighter in his hand. I spat out what I was carrying and bumped my nose to his fist. It felt exactly like old times.

"Have fun?" he asked.

I grinned, showing off my glistening teeth. _Of course. It was a piece of cake._

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**Please review!**


	29. Chapter 28: Ticking Clocks

**Thanks for all the nice reviews—I'm glad you didn't forget me guys!**

**Just a couple things to say before the start of the chapter: First off, Jasper is FINE. He's one of my favorite **_**Twilight**_** characters and I would never, ever kill him. I know I left that bit a little ambiguously, but he really was just off making sure that there were no other vampires around. He's very thorough like that ;-) **

**Secondly, as some of you guessed, we are finally at the end of this story. This is the last chapter, and there's only the epilogue left now. I'm a little sad, but mostly I'm ready to move on to something different. **

**Song for this chapter is "Clocks" by Coldplay**

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I stared at the clock on the wall.

Was the stupid thing broken? Was it out of batteries? Had time somehow _stoppe_d? I had been staring at it for what felt like hours, until my eyes were permanently blurred because I'd forced them open, afraid I'd miss the smallest movement. But the clock hands _never _shifted. I was sure of it. Deliberately, I looked down, gluing my eyes to the carpet for as long as I could stand, but when I looked up, the clock still read the same time.

Maybe I'd finally gone crazy? This endless waiting was certainly enough to drive me to it.

After my outburst earlier in the morning, I was sure that my aunt and everyone else would think I lost it too. I hadn't wanted to leave my cousin's room and face them— though I didn't regret a word I'd said, just the _way _I'd said it. It was Leah who had practically dragged me downstairs. "Nobody _cares_ Claire," she'd said, rolling her eyes. "You're a teenager, you're supposed to be dramatic. Besides, it's nothing they haven't thought about before, you're just the first one to say it out loud."

So I'd followed her down the stairs and she was right. Aside from a few wary looks, I was mostly ignored.… But I had the feeling though that they were treating me gingerly, as if afraid I'd snap again any second. I couldn't exactly blame them. When I glanced at the faces around me, they were nervous, but calm. No one else looked like they wanted to rip the damn clock off the wall and throw it out the window. But that was _all _I thought about.

It took my mind off of worse things.

I sighed and began tapping a rhythm on my knee with my fingers, desperate for any kind of distraction. My leg was asleep from sitting curled up so long and the prickly, deadened sensation was strange. I shifted slightly and tried to massage feeling back into it, ignoring the way it made my leg feel disconnected from my body. To be honest, every bit of me felt disconnected from reality; I wanted to wake up and discover that that the entire morning was just a dream.

I sighed again, and the sound echoed through the quiet living room. Occasionally someone would try to talk, but it never lasted long.

Leah had come downstairs with me, and she sat beside Emily on the couch. They weren't touching, but they sat close together, and Emily was leaning towards her cousin, almost as if she was drawing strength from her. I looked closely at them, noticing my Aunt's pale face and the dark circles under her eyes. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. Emily was so good—always giving hugs and reassurances, being strong when every one _else_ needed it, holding_ them_ while they fell apart. But what about her? Didn't she need that too? Guiltily, I realized that I'd never thought of it before.

I would just have to be tougher, no matter how long this lasted.

My eyes wandered, as they always would, to the clock on the wall. Five minutes had passed.

Well, at least I wasn't crazy. Not yet anyway.

A sudden sound cut through the stillness. My head jerked towards it, a chill spreading like ice through my veins, even as my heart raced in pure panic. It was a wolf's howl. The wind was carrying it straight to us.

Other cries joined it. Some so short that they were really only yelps, while others echoed long and low, and twice as unnerving. I tried to interpret the tone of howls—were they worried? Hurt? Was it normal? I stared at Emily—forgetting that I'd wanted to be tough for her, forgetting that she needed reassurance too. For the moment, I was a seventeen-year-old girl, and I was scared.

No, I was terrified.

Emily was turned towards the noise too, and she was clutching Leah's hand so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. Her eyes were wide and her bottom lip was a deep red, she'd been worrying it so much.

"It's fine," Leah said, when she saw my expression. "It's normal. They're just talking. They're excited."

Emily relaxed, seeming to come back to herself at the sound of Leah's voice. She smiled shakily and leaned back against the couch, loosening her hold on Leah's hand. "I forgot how terrible that sounds," she said softly.

I nodded anxiously. Even if they were lying to make me feel better, I wouldn't question it.

After a few long moments, the cries died down and a new uneasiness spread through me. At least if the pack was making noise it meant they were alive. The eerie silence told me nothing.

I dropped my forehead to my knees, which I'd curled tightly against my chest. I tried to distract myself by thinking of Quil. I saw his eyes clearly in my mind, his beautiful calm hazel eyes—focusing on them and nothing else. I breathed deeply, letting the image relax me. It was almost working when another noise pulled me from my daydream.

But it wasn't the pack… it was the sound of gravel crunching outside and a car being shut off. But who would be here _now_? In the middle of _this_?

I stood quickly, almost tripping because my legs were still asleep. They felt like jelly, like the ground wasn't a solid surface anymore, but I moved despite it, half-running to the window. When I saw the car in the driveway and the person stepping out of it, my jaw dropped in shock.

"_Mom_?" I called, running to the front door and ripping it open. "Mom, what are you doing here?"

She hurried towards me, arms outstretched and pulled me forward into a tight hug, squeezing all the air out of my lungs. There was relief in her voice when she said my name. But when she pulled away the expression on her face morphed instantly, darkening in shock.

"Oh my God Claire!" she gasped, brushing the hair off my face. "What on earth happened to you?" I frowned, not understanding what had upset her, but then I felt her light touch on my cheek. _Oh. _I'd forgotten about the scratch… and the bruises. My mother's eyes widened when her gaze lowered to the thick purplish marks on my neck. "Are you okay?" she asked in a shaken voice.

"I'm fine," I said quickly, not wanting her to question too closely. I tried to change the subject. "Why are _you _here though? Did you talk to Emily?"

"No." She shook her head and walked with me towards the kitchen. "I couldn't sleep last night thinking about what I said. I didn't want to leave things like that between us."

The kitchen was empty. She led me to the table and sat down beside me, still holding onto my hand. "Now," she said quietly. "Tell me what happened to you…. Was it—did Quil do this to you?"

"No!" I gasped, appalled. "You know he would never hurt me!" I couldn't believe that my mother thought Quil, _Quil _of all people could have done this to me. She'd known him just as long as I had—hadn't she seen how much he loved me? Didn't she know he would never…

"Sam wasn't supposed to hurt Emily either," she whispered.

_Ah. _And my mother had probably never forgiven him for it. "That was years ago mom," I said gently. "It's not like it was in the beginning; Quil's in control now. He won't hurt me.He "

"Then how did this happen?"

I didn't want to tell her. The truth was almost as bad as if Quil had done this to me himself. But I couldn't lie to my mother. She would hear it eventually and better from me than anyone else. So I took a deep breath and told her.

With one shaky hand, my mother rubbed her forehead. Her other hand still held mine in a death grip.

"Why didn't Emily call me?" she spoke at last, looking across at me.

"There was nothing you could have done. And I'm fine now mom, I promise. Besides, you would have wanted me to come home again, and I wouldn't have."

She raised an eyebrow at me but I could sense her reluctance to get into the same old argument. Just as she was about to open her mouth, we heard it.

My mother stared at me, wide-eyed, but I couldn't reassure her. I was too focused on the howls and cries that wind carried to La Push. These were so different from the frenzied cries I'd heard earlier in the morning. They were orderly, calm, evenly spaced, and so distinct that if I knew each of the wolves' 'voices' I was sure I'd be able to tell them apart. With a shock, I realized that it reminded me of a roll call.

I found myself counting them. _One… two… three. _Every other background noise faded, I didn't even breathe really, until I heard the last one.

_Fifteen. _All of them. If this was what I thought, it was anyway.

I ran out of the kitchen, skidding to a stop in the living room doorway, seeking confirmation. My eyes darted to Emily and she was smiling. Radiant; for the first time in days there were no shadows on her face.

But I needed more than just her relief, so I walked over to the window. Already, I could see the long columns of thick grey smoke rising from the trees in the distance. The faint sickly sweet smell of those fires would hang over La Push all day. It was over then. Finished.

A strangled laugh bubbled up from inside me, and I threw myself into my mother's arms, letting the sensation wash over me. I felt buoyant, like I was going to float up into the air at any second. It was relief and happiness and exhaustion catching up with me all at once. My laughter turned hysterical, as the emotions I'd tried to keep in were finally allowed free-reign. It was too much too feel—too much all at once.

My mother held me, rubbing soothing circles on my back as I sobbed.

And traitorously, I wished that someone else was holding me.

Around us, the room emptied of everyone except my mother and Emily. Now that it was over, there was no reason for them to stay. They had their kids to pick up, and their lives to get back to. Would they kiss their husbands, give him breakfast, and then pretend that nothing had happened?

Could _I_ do that?

I pulled away from my mother's embrace and looked at Emily. "When will he be back?" Of course she didn't have to ask who I was talking about.

"Soon," she assured me. "As soon as he can."

"Will he come straight here?"

She smiled and nodded. "He'll be here."

My mother reached across to wipe the tears off my cheeks. There was a sad expression on her face. "Oh Claire," she sighed. "I don't like seeing you like this."

"Like what?" I moved away from her, going to stand by the window again. It was a cool, rainy day outside. Except for the absolute stillness, it could be just any other day on the rez.

"Worried. You're only seventeen; you shouldn't have to deal with this. When your sister was your age, the biggest thing she ever worried about was which boy to date and getting good grades."

I shrugged. "I'm not Colleen," I said simply. We had never been interested in the same things. She was my sister and I loved her, but sometimes it felt like we were from different planets.

"I know. You're so much more mature than she was. Than she _is,_" my mother chuckled softly. "But I wish sometimes you were a little her though. You grew up so fast."

I shrugged again, keeping my eyes peeled on the woods around me just in case Quil came back that way.

"You're not really mine anymore," she sighed. My eyes shot to hers. I couldn't deny it. "I remember the first time you went to Quil instead of me. You were maybe four and you fell of your trike and scraped your elbow. I was standing right there… but you ran straight to him and he picked you up and held you and got you all bandaged up. I didn't want to be jealous; I told myself that it wasn't a big deal and that it didn't matter, but I remember vividly how badly I wanted you to have come to me instead.

"And I remember thinking: _get used to it, _because I knew it was only going to get worse as you grew up. I was right." She smiled weakly. "And I can't even be mad at him for it because he loves you so much, the way you deserve to be loved. And I can't hate him for making you grow up so fast because you're happy. Even right now, I can tell you're happy."

"Mom…" I trailed. I didn't know what to say.

"I know."

And then I heard it. The sound of the kitchen door opening. I froze, meeting my mother's eyes desperately, knowing that this was exactly what she'd just been talking about. I wasn't four years old anymore, but nothing had changed. I was going to run right to Quil, for different reasons but for all the same reasons too. Because he was the only thing that could make me feel whole, and because I needed him, and because every atom of my body was protesting staying still.

My mother smiled. "I know," she said again. I was just about to run past her as she turned to leave the room, but then I saw him.

Quil stood in the doorway, and the sight of him stopped me short. I let my eyes hunt over every inch of him, reassuring myself that he was okay. I looked closely, making sure there were no bandages under his clothes, watching every little movement he made so I could be sure he wasn't limping. Except for the thin trickle of dried blood on his neck, he seemed unharmed. Relief washed over me. He was better than fine.

He was perfect.

I threw my arms around his waist and buried my face against him. He smelled strange. Of that sickly sweet smoke, and damp earth, and himself. And he felt so good, so warm and soft and hard. And he _looked _so good, even though he looked like crap. There were streaks of dirt on his face and he looked exhausted.

But he was here, whole, with me, and that was all that mattered.

He folded me into his arms, dropping his head to my neck, resting his forehead against my shoulder. His warm breath tickled me. For the first time in days, I could _really _breathe, freely and without fear, because it was over and Quil was here, and he never had to leave me again. I wasn't going to let him leave me again.

And I wondered if he'd mind sneaking into my room at night, because there was no way I'd be able to sleep without him from now on. Not after this.

Quil pulled away just enough so that he could see my face. Gently, he brushed my lips with his thumb, as a slow, wide grin spread across his face. And he was so beautiful that my heart sped, beating erratically against my chest. I caught his hand and turned my head so that I could kiss it. I could feel and answering smile on my own face.

Perfect.

Behind us, a throat cleared, making me jump because for a second there, it had felt like Quil and I were the only two people in the world. I twisted in Quil's arms, and saw Leah standing there, her arms crossed against her chest. But she was smiling.

"Why don't you just kiss her already and get it over with?" she teased.

I blushed, but Quil only grinned at her. He let go of me, keeping our hands tightly clasped as he pulled Leah into a tight hug. I realized that it was the first time he'd seen her since the beach, and she hadn't really been in any shape to talk then.

"Thank you," he murmured into her ear. "You're the best."

She swatted his hand away. "You're such a B.S-er, Quil," she complained, but I thought she looked pleased. "I remember how much you all used to hate me, I can't believe I'm suddenly so popular," she joked, but Quil wouldn't play along.

"Seriously, I owe you. Forever." Quil's hand tightened around my own. All the teasing left Leah's face.

"Well, what else could do? You're my brother. You'd have done the same for me."

She shifted uncomfortably, playing with the straps of a slim overnight bag.

"Are you leaving? I asked, gesturing to the bag, feeling disappointed.

Leah smiled, seemingly glad for a change in subject. "Yup, I'm heading out, back to Seattle."

"Already?"

Leah chuckled. "The fight's over. I did my bit, and now I have a life I need to get back to."

I let go of Quil's hand so that I could hug her tightly. " Thank you. I'm so glad that I finally got to know you."

She hugged me back. "Come visit me in Seattle Claire. Any time. Quil knows the address."

"I will," I promised, reaching for Quil's hand as soon as I stepped away.

"Well, I have to go say goodbye to the rest of those losers," she said affectionately. She smiled and waved. "See you around."

"She's nice," I said, slipping back into Quil's arms, when the door closed behind her.

"Yeah, she has her moments," he laughed.

I closed my eyes, leaning my head against Quil's chest. Was it possible that only a few hours ago I'd been so anxious I'd practically thrown the clock out the window? Now that Quil was back, and I could feel his lips in my hair, and his arms around me, it seemed almost impossible. "Are you really okay?" I asked, looking up at the long trickle of dried blood on his neck.

"I'm fine," he promised. "We're all fine. It was easy, just like I said it would be."

"What happened? I want to know everything."

He kissed me lightly on the cheek. "How about I tell you everything over breakfast? I'm starving."

I raised my eyebrow, hoping he wasn't trying to distract me. No matter what it was like for Emily, or Kim, or Rachel and the rest, I knew that _I _would never be able pretend that this day hadn't happened. As Leah had said, being left behind was the price I paid for loving a werewolf. One I accepted wholeheartedly.

Which was why I wasn't going to forget anything I'd felt today. Why I wasn't going to shy away from whatever he had to tell me, or let myself be distracted. Why I wasn't going to hide from any part of it. Because I loved him, and because I wanted to be in this _with _him.

I squeezed Quil's hand, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him.

"Yeah," I smiled. "I'm kind of hungry too. You can tell me all about it while we eat."

* * *

**Look for the epilogue very soon. **


	30. Epilogue: Future

**So, here it is… the ending. I'm kind of in shock right now. I can't believe it's over!**

**Disclaimer: Quil and Claire do not belong to me :(**

* * *

Epilogue: Future

As I stepped out of the front door of my high school, my eyes quickly scanned the parking lot. Quil was already there waiting for me, leaning up against his truck, his hands in his pockets, head bent slightly so the light rain wouldn't fall in his eyes. He was wearing a dark blue windbreaker that made his black hair seem even darker against the stormy grey sky.

Instinctively, I began to walk faster towards him, pushing through the small crowd of people that had gathered on the steps. Quil raised his head, his eyes zeroing in on me instantly. A slow smile spread across his face, and when I was near enough, he held out his hand to me.

My breath left me in a soft sigh when I felt his warm hand wrap around my own. I had been waiting for this all day. It was my first day returning to school since the fight in La Push, and though it had been three days ago, I still wasn't ready to be back.

It was the way everyone stared at me! Wanting to know how I'd gotten the scratch on my face, and why I'd missed so much school. At least I was wearing one of Colleen's high-necked shirts, so they couldn't see the bruises that had turned a sick yellowish purple. Those wouldn't have been so easy to explain away. As it was, I'd had to make up some story about tripping, which everyone seemed to accept easily enough. Only Katie had raised an eyebrow at my excuses, but luckily, she hadn't pushed. I hated lying to her, but I knew that the truth would be too hard to accept. Maybe someday…

It was so strange coming back to my everyday life, and being around people who had no clue of the danger that had been so close to them only days ago. How was I supposed to pretend that I hadn't seen what I had seen, that I didn't know what I knew?

The Cullen's had left La Push the day after the fight. Bella had hugged me goodbye and promised that I would see her again. I was glad. Surprisingly I liked her and her family. I just hoped that next time, their visit was purely social.

Quil held the door of his truck open for me, and gently helped me into the passenger's seat. The only noise around us was the pinging sound of rain hitting the metal roof of the truck, and the murmur of voices in the parking lot. Quil slid in on the other side, reaching for my hand as soon as he'd started the truck. I laid my forehead against the window, letting the coolness of the glass seep through my skin as I watched the scenery pass by outside.

I wondered if Quil felt it too. This strange need to just _be _with each other. There was no reason to fill up the silence with talk, no reason to do anything but be near each other. All the anxiety from my day at school fell off me completely. I didn't have to be anyone else with him, didn't have to pretend or hide or lie. I squeezed his hand and looked over at him, seeing the smile on my face mirrored on his.

It was just a short drive to the long stretch of sandy beach in Neah Bay. When we pulled onto the shoulder of the road, I realized that I hadn't been to this place since that disastrous day four years ago when Quil had told me he was staying out of my life. In all the time since then, I'd averted my eyes every time I'd driven past it, not wanting any reminders of that day. But now, with Quil beside me, all that old pain was gone. Strangely enough, it felt _right _to come back here, now that there were no longer any secrets between us. I had faced Quil worst fear—the reason he'd tried to leave me that day—and survived.

It felt almost like coming full circle.

Quil grabbed a blanket from out behind the seat and we began to make our way across the rocks and the driftwood that had been carried ashore during the last winter storm. There was only one other person on the beach, a man in a thick raincoat and boots. He carried a long fishing pole and tackle box.

"You guys are going to freeze out there," he called to us as he trudged down the beach in the opposite direction. Quil and I just smiled and waved. Being cold, wasn't something I had to worry about anymore, not when I was with Quil.

We walked further down the beach, far from the houses of the tiny town. I peered across the strait, trying to see Vancouver Island, but the fog was so thick I couldn't even see five feet in front of me. The mist wrapped tightly around us, making me feel as if, if it weren't for the man on the other end of the beach, that Quil and I could be the only two people in the world.

Quil spread out the blanket and sat down against a huge piece of driftwood. I settled in between his knees, and leaned back against his chest, resting my head on his shoulder. Quil wrapped his huge arms around me, instantly suffusing me with warmth, and dissipating the chill caused by icy wind that blew off the ocean.

I twisted slightly in his arms so I could see his face. "Hi," I said quietly, a small grin playing on my lips, it was the first time I'd spoken to him all day. He leaned forward to kiss the tip of my nose.

"Hey," he said, and I laughed and turned back towards the water. His fingers played with the edge of my jacket as he lightly brushed against my bare skin, tickling me with his fingertips. "How was school today?" he asked.

A sigh escaped my lips before I could keep it in, causing Quil's arms to tighten around my waist. "It was fine I guess… just different, harder than I thought it would be." I frowned, trying to put into words to the way I'd felt all day. "None of them have any clue what's really going on…" I said at last. "I don't know how you were able to go back to school after finding out you were a werewolf. It must have been so hard."

"Sam's orders," he shrugged. "He wanted us to get an education. I never liked school much, and afterwards it seemed even more pointless since I already knew what I was going to do with the rest of my life. But it got easier eventually. It will for you too."

"I hope so," I sighed. "You know, I was just sitting in class today, and I realized that I still have a _year and a half _left of school. And I already feel so… over it all. And then I started thinking about my future, and what I'm going to do after I graduate. I mean, I guess I'm going to go to college …" I let the words trail, not able to finish the thought.

"I thought you wanted to go to college?" he asked lightly.

"I _do_, or I did anyway." I twisted so I could see his face again. "But what about you? I don't want to leave you."

He smiled softly, but there was an edge behind it that I didn't understand. "You know I'm going with you, right?" he said calmly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What? But you can't just leave. What about La Push and the pack—they're your family…it's your life."

"Yeah, they are my family, which is why they'll understand." He cupped my cheek gently in his big hand, his warmth radiating through my skin. "_You _are my life Claire. You have been since you were two years old. I stayed with the pack because that was how I could keep _you _safe, but I would have followed you anywhere, to other side of the country if I had to. Which is why I'm going to follow you to wherever you decide to go to school." He paused, a smirk on his face. "Unless you don't want me to?"

I rolled my eyes at him; of course I wanted him with me! But I had never imagined this possibility. Quil and La Push had always seemed so intertwined, it was impossible for me to imagine one without the other. I'd never even thought it was possible forhim to leave. I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly very dry. "You've thought a lot about this then? Planned it all out?"

A small smile touched his lips. "Of course. I've had fifteen years to figure it out after all."

"But what are _you_ going to do in Seattle?" I'd already decided that I was going to the University of Washington, like my sister, and I tried to picture him there, but couldn't.

He shrugged. "Whatever. Leah has friends there; I'm sure one of them can hook me up with something."

There was a strange tone in his voice. I frowned, trying to figure it out. " You sound… excited about the idea."

He laughed. "Of course I am!" he said, impulsively leaning forward to kiss me lightly on the lips. "Every day for the last fifteen years I've known exactly what the next day is going to bring: patrolling and Sam's rules and hanging out with the same old people, and maybe a bloodsucker every once in awhile to shake things up a bit." His smile became wider. "I can't _wait _to wake up in the morning and have no clue what I'm going to do. La Push will always be home, but I'm ready for something new."

He sounded so excited about the idea that I couldn't help but shift guiltily. After all, _I _was the reason that he couldn't have anything of those things yet. He was _stuck_ here with me. Waiting for me to grow up. "You can go anytime Quil—" I stuttered. "You don't have to wait for me or anything."

He laughed again, and the sound was so lighthearted that I smiled too, even though my heart wasn't in it. "Claire," he chided, "being with you will be the best part, it's what's going to make it so exciting! Seeing all those new things with you, figuring it out together… Being with you all the time," his voice lowered, and he nuzzled my hair lightly. "We're going to get an apartment together too. Just the two of us. I've already decided."

"Oh really?" I asked, feeling a little dizzy. "And then what?" I pushed. I wanted to hear all of his plans, because as he spoke I could actually _see _the future he described. I could see him and me walking hand in hand through Seattle, and the cozy little apartment that we'd share. I could see our future. Quil's hands had slipped under my shirt again, and he brushed his fingertips across my skin, giving me goose bumps even though he was so warm.

"And then when you're done with school I'm going to marry you," he said simply. "And I'm going to follow you wherever you want to go."

I froze. A deep blush spreading across my face. I pulled out of his arms and turned so that I was kneeling in front of him. "Did you just say you were going to marry me?"

He didn't even blink. "Of course I'm going to marry you Claire."

"Oh." I could feel a smile tugging at my lips. "Didn't you think you should ask me first?"

His face was serious, his eyes searching mine. "I guess I just did," he said softly.

I wanted to kiss him and say something stupidly dramatic and romantic, but I knew Quil would only laugh at me if I tried. So instead, I kept my voice causal and light. "What kind of man proposes without a ring?" I joked.

Quil automatically reached into his pocket, making me freeze yet again. But he only smirked and rolled his eyes. "It's not a ring Claire," he chuckled. I forced my body to relax, but still stared curiously at his hand.

Very carefully, he unrolled a dark bluish-grey band of woven fabric. I recognized it instantly. It was a Quileute promise bracelet, something every Quileute boy gave to the girl he wanted to marry. A sort of promise ring. Even Emily had one, which she wore sometimes when she was feeling sentimental.

"A friend of mine was really into making these around the time I first saw you," he said, his eyes on the bracelet, as he was fingered it tensely. "When I saw it, it reminded me of the color of your eyes," he whispered, still not meeting my gaze, and I realized that he sounded nervous…almost _shy_. I couldn't even wrap my head around that; after all we'd been through, how could he possibly be afraid of rejection now?

"Everyone said I should just give it to you. That I was stupid for hanging onto it so long, but I wanted to wait until you _knew_… everything I guess. Until you saw everything that I am… And now you have. You know what I do and what I am and what it means to love me…" he trailed uncomfortably. "I figured now's the right time…"

Quil didn't reach for my arm. He was still staring at the bracelet, holding it tightly in his hand. He was waiting for my decision, my choice, I realized. For him, this was more than just a simple bracelet, or even a proposal, he was asking me to accept _him, _exactly as he was, baggage included.

_Didn't he know? _

Very slowly, I held out my wrist to him, and heard his breath hitch when our skin touched. Quil's fingers were very soft, almost hesitant against my skin as he gently fastened the bracelet around my wrist. It was a perfect fit.

At last, Quil raised his eyes to mine, a huge grin on his face. "When I propose for real, I'll get you a ring. But at least now…everyone knows you're mine."

"You're mine too," I claimed.

"Always."

I felt like I was going to drown in emotion. What had started out as fun cheerful banter had suddenly turned serious. Of course, I'd known that I would marry Quil someday… but know I _knew _and the certainty felt amazing. Quil felt the gravity of the situation too.

"It's never going to be normal," he warned. "Even when we go to Seattle, it's not going to be easy—"

"I know," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I don't care."

"It'll always be crazy and messed up, and I can't promise that you won't be in danger—"

I stopped his words by pressing a finger over his lips. He smiled against them, kissing them lightly before reaching up and twining his fingers with mine. "But I _do _promise that I'll love you as long as I live."

I smiled, drinking in his words. Every doubt I'd ever had, every fear, was washed away by the certainty of _this, _of this moment and how he seemed to fit so perfectly in my arms. He was made for me, just as I was made for him.

"I'm counting on it," I whispered, and then I kissed him.

THE END

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**If this story was a movie, then the song playing during the end-credits would be "Gravity," by Embrace. If you haven't heard this song yet, go find it on youtube. It's amazing!**

**So… wow. I can't believe I actually finished something… and people actually **_**liked **_**it! Craziness. This was such an awesome experience. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially to those who reviewed more than once. You guys rock! **

**I am pretty positive that I'm done with Quil and Claire's story. I feel like I don't have anywhere else to go with it, so I don't have any plans to write a sequel. I do however, have a couple ideas for and Edward/ Bella story, so I'm going to wait and see if any of them really inspire me. **

**But first, I'm going to focus on my Quil one-shot. It's about halfway written at the moment, so look for it sometime in the next two weeks. I'll post an update on here telling you when it's done. **

**All that's left for me to say at this point is **_**thank you, thank you, thank you**_**! You've made this such a wonderful experience for me. **

**So… now I'd really love to hear from you guys. Come on, it's your last chance to review! Did you like it? Hate it? Love it? **


	31. Chapter 31: I've been nominated!

**Hey guys!**

**This is just a quick note to tell you that this story was nominated for Most Romantic at the Twilight Awards Breaking Dawn Round!! Ahhhhh! **

**Whoever it was who nominated me, thank you _so _much! I am thrilled and shocked that you like the story that much! **

**So I'm going do a little shameless plugging and beg you all to head over to **www(dot)twilightawards(dot)eternal-paradise(dot)com **and vote for me. I'll be eternally grateful. Voting ends on October 30th.**

**Also, the first half of my one-shot, _Being Quil Ateara _has been posted. Link is on my profile. **

**Thank you!!**


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